Stranded
by Cryptic Voyager
Summary: I'm ready to start updating again. Updating slowly. And if someone could tell me how I used to be able to get away with naming some chapters the same title but can't anymore, please do. Plot: Hostile aliens strand Voyager. Plots from Janeway to Naomi.
1. Disclaimer

Disclaimer – The plots mine. Unfortunately, TPTB at Paramount own the characters…sometimes, life just isn't fair.

Rated PG-13 for language use, and a wee bit of reference to naughty things.

My first fic, so please comment!

Enjoy!


	2. Prologue and Kathryn

~ Prologue ~

            Kathryn Janeway tugged on her white dress, trying to get it to lie straight. The flowing material gracefully pooled around her feet, yet a single piece refused to conform. Sighing, Kathryn tried once more, and finally gave up, pinning her com badge over her heart. She turned around and, without looking back on the blackened, war torn room, walked out of her quarters of seven years on _Voyager_ for the last time.

~ Kathryn ~

            Captain Kathryn Janeway stepped onto the crates – a makeshift podium – and waited for the crowd in front of her to grow silent. Surrounded by the trees, her former crew looked like something out of a movie, everyone clad in soft hued clothes like her own, so un-Starfleet. The mass of people quieted down, looking expectantly on their leader with sad faces. Just beyond the clearing of trees, Janeway could see the top of _Voyager_'s hull, holes punctured in it and the left nacelle looking as if it were about to fall off. The sight nearly brought tears to her eyes, but she kept them at bay for now.

            "It has been determined that as of right now, _Voyager_ is beyond our repair. We are without the supplies, and there are no signs of any resources near here. The Plak'han have taken us down, for now. This planet is not in their territory, so we should be able to make due here. Over fifty of our family died in this attack. While we will grieve for them, our primary goal is to build some shelters using whatever is left of _Voyager_'s hull, but our secondary mission is to catch up on our lives, on the seven years you have missed in life. I know you all have loved ones waiting for you in the Alpha Quadrant – I do too – but I can't do anything about it. So, please, try to enjoy yourselves." Her voice sounded hollow to herself, and she could feel a single tear drop onto her cheek. As to not embarrass herself and further, the former captain of _Voyager_ stepped down.

            The ninety-eight people seemed to whip into a whirlwind of activity, everyone confused as to where to go, what to do. Tuvok was quieting them down, giving instructions, as Kathryn took off at a run towards the woods.

            _"__Hull__ breach on deck 12!"__ Chakotay's strong voice carried over the mayhem of the bridge._

_            "Shields are failing, Captain." Tuvok called._

_            "Shields are down! Plak'han are boarding us on decks 11, 6, and 2!" said Harry Kim._

_            "Tuvok, Chakotay! Assemble three security teams. Commander, take deck 11, Tuvok, deck 6, and I'll have deck 2." Janeway gave her top officers a steely look, letting them know that she could take care of herself._

            Janeway crashed through the woods, around the clearing, snagging her dress on branches, leaving it behind.

            _Wandering around deck 2, with Lt. Raver, Lt. Bensin, and Ensign Beswell all behind her, compression rifles armed. They turned a corner, only to see three Plak'han there._

_            They scuttled about on six legs, and had the upper body of a humanoid, almost like the centaurs from childhood tales. They towered over the humans by at least a meter, some of them having to bend down to fit in the corridor. Shining insect armor covered them from head to foot. The three gleaming compound eyes focused on the ground in front of them. Their two arms carried large weapons._

Another tear fell from Kathryn's eye, coursing down her face into her mouth, were the saltiness tasted bitter. She blinked back the others. The sound of her racing through the woods had gotten heavier, louder.

            _Noah Lessing and Marla Gilmore were bent on the ground in front of the Plak'han, quivering with fear.__ Before the Captain could do anything, the foremost Plak'han pulled out a blade, eyes gleaming with the kill._

            Now the tears were running freely.

            _He raised the knife, slashing it across both crewmen. Janeway let out a gasp, finally raising her weapon and firing two shots, while the people behind her helped to take them down. She rushed forward to see Noah and Marla with gaping wounds, blood pouring forth like a sacrifice._

            She finally had circumvented the clearing, and was now in the looming shadow of _Voyager_, the hull splintered, the nacelles broken, her spirit gone…


	3. Chakotay

~ Chakotay ~

            Chakotay watched politely as the Captain made her speech. Inside, he couldn't stop worrying about her. Ever since the Plak'han, she had been withdrawn, unemotional. She had ceased to feel, and that worried him.

            So he was surprised when he heard her voice catch ever so slightly. And that gleam in her eye…was it a tear? Chakotay was the only one standing close enough to her, the only one who could observe her mask of indifference slipping.

            No sooner had the tear left it's home that she was gone, off the boxes. He turned to bring some order to the crew, and then thought better of it. Motioning towards Tuvok, who took his place, he hurried off towards the woods.

            The white of the Captain's dress gleamed ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel. He should have been able to catch up with her, but his large body prevented him from dodging and ducking all the branches the Captain so easily avoided.

            Where the hell was she going? She disappeared from his sight, leaving him blindly thrashing forward. Finally, he broke through the last barrier of foliage.

            Kathryn was kneeling on the ground, leaning against _Voyager_'s slender landing gear. Her hair hid her face, but the violent convulsing of her slender body revealed her anguish. Chakotay cautiously stepped forward. He could now see the individual tears falling from beneath her hair onto the dying grass.

            Chakotay was unsure of what to do now. She obviously hadn't heard him, and he was hesitant to disturb her. She was so careful of her image, and he knew the last thins she wanted was anyone seeing her in this state. Finally, he decided to leave her be. Just as he was about to head back, he glanced over his shoulder, only to see her watching him. She turned back toward the landing gear, silent now.

            To hell with her pride! Chakotay went over and knelt next to her.

            "Captain…"

            She kept her face down, but a subtle laugh escaped her lips. "It's no longer 'Captain,' Chakotay. I have no ship, no mission." Chakotay heaved a sigh. Why did she have to pick now to be so stubborn?

            "What about catching up on your past? Those seven years we should be recapturing?"

            A hand swatted at the empty air, gesturing at nothing. "You're all young. You can start over." Another tear fell. Was it from him?

            "And you can't?"

            "I'm old, Chakotay."

            "Hell, Kathryn, a lot of us are! I'm only three years younger than you! Tuvok's older, and he has family waiting! Everyone has family waiting! And yet, everyone is willing to start over! Why can't you be?"

            Kathryn now whipped her head around to face Chakotay, who recoiled slightly. Despite the tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, she now exuded power and authority that struck fear into Chakotay's heart. He almost gave in to leaving her there, but a fire rose from within to meet her own iciness. Before he could say anything though, she started her own tirade.

            "I've failed, Chakotay! I promised all those people to get them home! And look! I've managed to get nearly a third of them killed! They all died to ensure we would make it, and here we are, stuck on this planet, thousands of lightyears…from home…" Her voice started to fade, her message out. She went back to sobbing, and Chakotay cradled her head against his chest. The sun light was fading and was replaced by twin moons that reminded Chakotay of his homeworld. They sat quietly for a few minutes, when Kathryn broke the silence.

            "Chakotay, I don't know if there really is much more for me to live for."

            Chakotay looked down at the reddish hair on his chest and thought for a moment. What did she have to live for? She would never see her family again, and, by her standards, she had failed herself…

            "You have your crew. Regardless of what you may think, they need you now, more than ever. They look to you for strength." He leaned in a little, so his voice was right in her ear. "And even if that fails you, your angry warrior will always be here for support."

            Kathryn's body went rigid at the last comment, and then relaxed back into him. She fell asleep like that, with Chakotay nodding off a few hours later.


	4. Tuvok

~ Tuvok ~

            The morning brought Tuvok on a search for his commanding officers. Their deserting of the crew for such an extended period of time faintly annoyed him. Both were extremely capable leaders and knew better than to leave their subordinates in a time of crisis. He pulled Lieutenant Torres aside.

            "Lieutenant, I am leaving to go find the Captain and Commander. I trust you can handle the crew?" The Lieutenant looked behind her as people were rising from underneath there primitive shelter.

            "Sure Tuvok." The Vulcan gave her a disapproving look as she walked away.

            "Lieutenant," Torres, turned around, hand on her pregnant belly. "Please continue to refer to me as Commander. We are still maintaining a command structure." Lieutenant Torres gave him a flabbergasted look, and then walked away without comment. Making a mental note to remind the crew of the chain of command that they all served under, Tuvok headed away from the encampment.

            Still dressed in his Starfleet uniform, Tuvok methodically went through the woods. A scrap of the Captain's garment was on the ground, prompting Tuvok to walk in that direction. He stopped as he came to the clearing where _Voyager_ sat.

            The morning sun, a fiery red, not much unlike the sun on Vulcan, bathed _Voyager_ with its light, reflecting its scorching rays onto the ground. The once-mighty ship gleamed strongly, as if it still had something to prove.

And below it all was the captain and commander.

The captain's body was curved to fit the shape of the commander's own. His hand was resting lightly on her stomach, rising and falling rhythmically with their breathing. Apparently, both had fallen asleep her the previous night. Not wanting to disturb the command team, Tuvok retraced his steps through the woods and was met by Lieutenant Paris back in camp.

"So, Tuvok, did you find the Captain and Commander?" Irritated by the steady deterioration in respect, Tuvok drew a breath to clear his thoughts.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I did find them."

"Well, where are they?" Paris was looking around Tuvok, trying to find them.

"They are sleeping together. I trust you will not disturb them." Paris' lower jaw seemed to drop approximately 4.1 centimeters. Tuvok turned around and walked away.


	5. Tom

~ Tom ~

                Tom's jaw hung open, his eye's following Tuvok's retreating form. As soon as the commander was out of sight, Tom ran back to the structure where he had been working, trying to restrain his excitement. He burst into the shelter, startling his wife. To pulled her away from Vorik, back outside. She was about to question him when Tom put a hand over he mouth, shushing her.

                "You won't believe what Tuvok just told me." B'Elanna ripped his hand off her mouth. She was not in a good mood.

                "What the hell did you find out that you couldn't say in front of Vorik?" Hand on hips now, her eyes dared Tom to answer her.

                "The Captain and Chakotay are sleeping together." B'Elanna's mood seemed to pick up a little bit, and then she began to giggle like a school girl. He could never get used to Klingon mood swings, especially during this pregnancy.

                "You dragged me out here for that!" she said in between fits of laughter. Tom was dumbfounded.

                "Um, aren't you surprised? I mean, it's the Captain and – " it was her turn to clamp a hand over his mouth.

                "Yes Tom. It's the Captain. And Chakotay. And everyone knows they've had a thing for each other for a very long time. Now that we're stuck on this planet, maybe she thought the time was finally here. Whatever her reasons, its fine by me. She wasn't exactly in great spirits yesterday afternoon and of all people, she's going to need the most cheering up." B'Elanna took her hand away. "I'm just glad she'll let Chakotay help." Tom put an arm around her waist, but she promptly shoved it off.

                "Now, I need to get back to work. Go make yourself useful, Flyboy." In mock anger, B'Elanna shook her fist at him. Tom laugher, turning to go see if Harry needed any help lugging communications equipment. His wife's insight never ceased to amaze him.


	6. B'Elanna

~ B'Elanna ~

            Turning back towards the camp, B'Elanna walked slowly, enjoying the warm sunlight. So, Chakotay and the Captain had finally gotten together! B'Elanna was more than happy for the big guy. Never had he openly admitted, even to her, that he had feelings for the Captain, but more than once, he had become quiet when the subject of Janeway came up. And those looks on the bridge…those were the same looks that Tom used to give her. Chakotay had always been overt about his love interests. Thank goodness the Captain was a step above Seska.

            "Lieutenant, we have plans accounting for all systems of _Voyager_. Should we begin dismantling?" Like Tuvok, Vorik had opted to stay in the Starfleet uniform. B'Elanna stopped in the doorway, startled out of her thoughts by the young Vulcan.

            "No, no, not yet," B'Elanna mused to herself. "We should check with the Captain first." Vorik nodded his acknowledgement and left. B'Elanna picked up a stack of PADDs and left the structure. No sooner had she walked out into the opening then she saw two forms in the distance, slowly walking towards them.

            Chakotay's black clad arm was hesitantly draped around the Captain's shoulder, occasionally hovering away but always coming back. The Captain's arms were crossed over her chest, head bent. The edges of her white dress were tattered. To B'Elanna, they looked like the ying-yang – man and woman, fire and ice, comfort and discomfort. As they started to come closer, B'Elanna tried to busy herself, not wanting to be caught gawking at the command team. When they finally reached her, B'Elanna looked up, surprised at the sad looks on their faces. The Captain's brave expression was obviously forced, but Chakotay made no move to hide his feelings. What had gone on between them?

            "Are you guys OK?" B'Elanna asked.

            It was like the Captain hadn't even noticed her. Her eyes focused in on the slightly confused engineer. "Yes, yes, we're fine." A smile became plastered across her face. "Are the schematics for the shelters ready?"

            B'Elanna, flustered by the, well, lack of happiness, wordlessly handed over the PADDs. While the Captain poured over the information, Chakotay looked over her shoulder, occasionally glancing at B'Elanna. His arm never left its place around the Captain. What the hell was this?

            "Thanks, B'Elanna. You may proceed." With another fake smile thrown over her shoulder, the Captain turned to leave with Chakotay right on her heels. B'Elanna just shook her head. She went off to find Vorik, making sure she went to go talk to Tom right after.


	7. Harry

~ Harry ~

            "Thanks, Harry," Paris said as Tom set the chilled water bottle in front of him. After a days worth of lugging around communication pieces in the hot sun, the cool drink, added with the evening breeze, relaxed the two officers. Harry sat down across from his friend on the ground. The jovial sounds of everyone else around the campfire were welcoming, but the friends wanted away from the heat and noise, so here they sat in the shadows of the looming trees. Harry found it comforting to be alone – kind of – after the intimacy of working in such close proximity from earlier on. On _Voyager_, they could always retreat to a room; here, they were permitted to go nowhere alone. Individuality seemed to melt away as the crew was meshed together, and the result was this: crewmen becoming disjoined from the group. He knew the Captain would hate to see everyone not being team players, but for the moment, Kim didn't care.

            Tom leaned forward, his face slightly overtaken by the firelight. "So, did you hear the latest scandal?" A shake of Harry's head prompted Tom to continue. "Apparently, the Captain and commander were caught having – "

            "There you are!" B'Elanna's pregnant form was storming towards them. Actually, Harry thought, it was more like waddling at this point. Whatever it was, she wasn't happy. A glance at Tom's blank expression told him that he had no clue what he had done this time. Or hadn't done, for that matter. She stopped at the sight of Harry, who was leaning over slightly, straining to hear the gossip.

            "You didn't tell him, did you?" B'Elanna demanded.

            "No, you just interrupted me. I was about to."

            "No, don't!"

            "Why not?" The confused man replied, only to have B'Elanna start half whispering, half yelling down towards Tom, who seemed to absorb none of what she was saying. Harry caught the gist of what she was shouting – had they really done that? – and stopped B'Elanna's rant with his hands, not wanting to risk his life by getting too much in the way. She gave him a glare that made Harry shrink back.

            "Um, I get what happened. You don't have to whisper." Harry watched as B'Elanna shot her husband a see-how-you're-corrupting-him look.

            "Fine. Tom something's not right with Chakotay and the Captain, so quit telling people about this."

            "Harry's the first person I told! Or at least tried to tell. Besides, what's the big deal? I thought we were supposed to be happy!"

            "Tom, I talked to them. Right after they came back. The Captain was…withdrawn."

            It was Harry's turn to chime in. "So? She's been like that since yesterday."

            B'Elanna threw her hands in the air. "What is it with men? You guys both know as well as me that they should be showing emotion or…or…something! They are just so impassive." She paced quietly around in the darkness. Harry watched quietly. What was going on in her mind now? He was happy for them, but he was slightly worried about what B'Elanna was thinking. Harry knew B'Elanna hated to see Chakotay upset more than anyone else – with the possible exception of the Captain – but he didn't want to see her do anything rash that might upset this new ground for the command team. When she finally stopped and faced them, Harry cautiously waited for the verdict.

            "We should go talk to them." Huh? Go talk to them? Harry wet his lips and spoke.

            "B'Elanna, I'm not sure I want to go talk with them…"

            Her eyes came to rest on him. In a quiet voice she said, "You aren't coming. It's a couple – to – couple talk." Harry felt relieved, then immediately sorry for Tom, who was trying to babble his way out of it.

            "No chance, Flyboy. You care just as much about their happiness as I do. Let's go." B'Elanna dragged her husband to his feet, taking him back towards the camp. Harry still sitting, watched as someone put out the fire and decided to go back. As everyone laid down to sleep, Harry watched as the crew that had known each other for seven years act as if they were afraid of one another, even of themselves. The unknown future lay in front of them, and it scared even Harry.


	8. Kathryn

~ Kathryn ~

            Kathryn surveyed the group as everyone got into his or her own sleeping bag. They were all uncharacteristically quiet, but after the long day she was sure they had, it was understandable. She walked around the mass of bodies towards Tuvok, who was also observing the cluster of people get ready for sleep. Kathryn had changed out of the remains of her dress into a vibrant red one that made her feel incredibly obtrusive in the darkness of the night. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself, although she did feel so much more confident after Chakotay's help. Her angry warrior…that had been unexpected.

            "Captain!" Tem meters from Tuvok and B'Elanna popped up in front of her, a haggard Tom and bewildered Chakotay in tow. Janeway drew a breath, blinked, and carefully said "Yes, B'Elanna?"

            "We need to talk to you."

            Kathryn arched an eyebrow.

            "Alone?" B'Elanna pleaded.

            A single nod from Kathryn and she found herself following B'Elanna from behind Chakotay and Tom. Away, farther and farther from camp. What did B'Elanna want to talk about that was so sensitive?

            "Surely, Lieutenant, whatever you want to say is not so secretive as this?" B'Elanna came to a halt, Chakotay crashing into Tom who fell into his wife. She didn't seem to notice. The soft look on B'Elanna's face unnerved Janeway. Tom, recovered from his collision, was standing at his wife's side, looking peculiarly at her and…

            …Chakotay.

            He had edged toward her now, eyes shifting between his Captain and the Paris couple. Kathryn tried to meet his eyes, to see what he knew.

            Nothing.

            Now they focused on Tom and B'Elanna, who were eyeing them with equal suspicion. B'Elanna stepped forward, bathed in the green moonlight, giving her an eerie glow. Her eyes were now fixed on the command team, determined.

            "Captain, Chakotay, permission to speak freely?" Janeway found it humorous that she was just now asking, or even at all, and a smile flitted across her face as she nodded permission. B'Elanna drew a breath.

            "Captain…"

            "Please, call me Kathryn."

            "Kathryn, Chakotay. We heard about you guys, and Tom and I just wanted to offer and help, in case you have any problems." Again, Kathryn eyed Chakotay, who wore a blank expression. She turned towards B'Elanna, who looked hesitantly at her.

            "Well, B'Elanna, thank you both for the offer, but I'm sure Chakotay and I can mend and rifts that may come up in our friendship." She turned to go.

            "But, what about last night?" Janeway looked over her shoulder.

            "What about it?"

            "Tuvok told Tom that, well…" She was being uncharacteristically hesitant. Again. Kathryn looked over B'Elanna's shoulder at Tom for an answer. His eyes widened at her glare.

            "Well, he said you guys were…you know…" Tom started fidgeting with his hands. Why couldn't they just say what they meant? Janeway looked at Chakotay, who's eyes had widened in understanding.

            "No."

            "B'Elanna and Tom were now looking at Chakotay, who had finally spoken for the first time since being dragged on this escapade. Kathryn was glad he was covering for her. He spoke again, his hands and voice slightly shaking.

            "No, we didn't. You guys should know that."

            Oh my! Where did they get _that_ idea? Kathryn hoped the darkness hid her reddening face. Apparently, it wasn't sufficient, as B'Elanna's eyes were sympathetically looking at her. And try as she might, Kathryn couldn't find her voice, so for the hundredth time that night, she looked at Chakotay for support, but he wouldn't look at her.

            And the solitary tear tracing his cheek told her why.

            With the instinctive touch of a mother, Kathryn reached up and let the glistening bead trail her fingers. It burned her hand, but the soft breeze quickly quelled the fire. She drew her hand away at the sensation. In the background, Kathryn could hear B'Elanna saying something.

            "…leave you guys alone."

            Retreating footsteps.

            Her thudding heart.

            Waning confidence.

            What to do now?

            Chakotay was still staring ahead, his eyes glazed over, dumbstruck, so Kathryn turned to walk away.


	9. Chakotay

~Chakotay ~

            He could hear her footsteps falling behind him. And no sooner had the third footstep fallen that he found his voice.

            "You know what was always wrong with the angry warrior?"

            No response.

            But no footsteps. He took that as a sign to continue.

            "He never expressed himself. He learned to be at peace, but never to love." Silence. "It's been one of my greatest failures too."

            Slowly, cautiously, he turned around. And what he saw never left his mind for years to come.

            It was quite possibly the first time Chakotay had seen Kathryn only as a woman, without the burden of being a Captain. Kathryn stood, showered in green moonbeams, although they were paled by the red of her dress. Her entire body was rigid, with beautiful eyes boring into his, seeking his motives, yet they held a sadness that pierced his heart.

            Wasn't love enough?

            He wasn't sure who made the first move, but they found themselves tangled in each others arms. Soothing. And Chakotay poured his heart out.

            Never had anything felt so good or been so painful! Chakotay relived everything: every touch, every feeling, every desire, every dream…even every time she had pushed him away. His very soul gushed forth in great sobs.

            Couldn't she see he wanted her? Needed her?

            And when he found that he was empty, it was his turn to cry in her arms. And it was Kathryn's turn to stroke his back, listening with a head on his chest. When he was done, Kathryn just looked up at him. It was such a quizzical look that, for a moment, Chakotay's heart fell. What if all this meant nothing to her? But her warm smile up at him brought his heart back into place.

            "I love you Kathryn," he managed to choke out.

            She stood on her toes and oh, so hesitantly, placed her lips on his, a tender, unsure, innocent kiss. She broke off, but Chakotay could still taste her saltiness on his lips. It was then that everything Chakotay had seen as Captain Janeway of the Federation Starship _Voyager_ was stripped away as a passionate Kathryn replaced it. Her lips were once again on his. Over his initial shock, Chakotay surrendered himself completely. She had finally given him what had so long been denied, and he hoped he had equally fulfilled her. And just before collapsing into each others arms, Chakotay couldn't help but wonder what Tuvok would say tomorrow.


	10. The Doctor

~ The Doctor ~

            "Please state the reason of why I've been deactivated for so long?" The Doctor asked, irked by the neglect. Looking around, he saw that he was in a clearing surrounded by several specie of vegetation, with a sun beating down on his photons at approximately 37º C. Mr. Kim, garbed in green, was about a meter in front, surveying him.

            "Sorry that you've been off for the past month…"

            "Actually, Mr. Kim, it's been one month, three days, thirteen hours, three minutes, and forty-two seconds! While all of you have been enjoying your shore leave, I've been left in holographic limbo!" Harry winced, and the Doctor hoped the bitterness was showing on his face. With a sigh, Harry addressed him again.

            "Well, Doc, what's the last thing you remember?" The Doctor furrowed his brow as he contacted his memory banks. He had been in sickbay, of course, performing surgery during the Plak'han assault. Ayala had been in engineering and an explosion had thrown him backwards onto another console, which had promptly exploded. Ayala's spinal cord had shattered in two places and plasma had severely burnt his already bleeding back. Torres beamed him directly to sickbay, where the Doctor started surgery. Yes, it had been the…the…that procedure! The Doctor went to access his medical files, but couldn't find them! In frustration, he turned to the ensign.

            "I was performing surgery on Ayala, but I can't remember the name of the procedure. Where are my medical files?" Harry shrank at the Doctor's voice crescendo.

            "Doc, to make a long and depressing story short, the Plak'han took us down. _Voyager_ isn't in great shape. We lost 52 good people. So, with all due respect, you can see why you weren't on our priority list. Your matrix had been damaged, so Tom was medic. He did fine."

            And for once, the Doctor was speechless. He wanted to ask how Ayala was doing, because if he hadn't finished surgery…the Doctor would have shivered, if he could. Harry seemed to read the Doctor's face well enough.

            "Ayala's alive. Not in perfect condition, but alive. His spine is bent at an odd angle, so he limps. Anyway, you have your memory banks and your basic medical knowledge. Anything else you need to know, read these." Mr. Kim produced a stack of PADDs and dumped them in the Doctor's arms. "I need to go back to fixing some relays. The Captain wanted to see you. She's over there." The ensign motioned toward a structure behind them as he headed off.

            With the mountain of PADDs teetering in his hands, the Doctor lumbered over towards the small hut Harry had pointed at. Inside, the Captain, dressed in pale blue, was standing at the head of a wooden table, talking to Chakotay and Tuvok. Upon noticing him, she circled the table, put a hand on his shoulder, and helped him set the voluminous PADDs down.

            "How are you, Doctor?"

            "Fine, although I'm still sketchy on the details of why we're here." Looking at his Captain, he noticed that she had lost weight. An unhealthy amount at that. The hand on his shoulder was nothing but skin and bone. Looking up with a forced smile, he observed the Captain's gaunt face flush and her eyes seemed to glaze over. Chakotay coughed, rather indiscreetly, and the Captain seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been in.

            "Well, Doctor, Mr. Paris has already given the crew the once over, but I would like for you to go back through and do a little bit more thorough check-up. We went to make sure nothing is wreaking havoc on our little paradise." The bitterness wasn't hidden from her voice. Or the sarcasm.

            "Gladly, Captain. I suppose I should start with you…"

            "No, no…go ahead and start at the bottom, working your way up." Drawing a breath, she looked around. "Well, gentlemen, I must be going." And with that, she just left.

            The Doctor watched as the Captain strode out the door and then turned to the two remaining officers. Chakotay stepped forward.

            "Sorry about that Doc. She's been more than stressed out about all of this. She has a lot on her mind, and she doesn't know how to deal with it all…"

            "Indeed, I haven't seen her this distressed in quite some time. However, she is a capable leader. I'm sure she only needs time to adjust to the new situation." Tuvok said.

            The Doctor just looked on, making sure to give her a psychological evaluation when he checked on her. The Captain had overcome many tremendous obstacles, but what if this one was too big…?


	11. Seven of Nine

~ Seven of Nine ~

            "Open your mouth and say 'hypospray,'" the Doctor joked.

            Seven was not amused. Throughout the past month and a half, she had suffered from severe headaches as a result of no regeneration chamber. Icheb had quickly adapted to sleep, but Seven was having trouble adjusting. Laying down on one's back in unconsciousness for an extended amount of time did not seem like an efficient way to regenerate. The Doctor prodded her again.

            "Seven, I need to take a tissue sample for tests. And with the primitive equipment at my disposal," he eyes the Petri dishes, "I'm afraid I have to resort to primitive techniques." Seven eyed the Doctor, who was waving around the appliance with which he wished to extract her cells with, and opened her mouth just the tiniest bit.

            "Wider," the Doctor prompted. She opened it a little more. He proceeded to shove the stick inside, successfully prying her jaw open another few centimeters. He swabbed around for a few moments, and then removed it, looking joyful.

            "Thank you, Seven." He ushered her out of his 'sickbay' and called out "Next victim!" Seven walked past an ensign who was looking particularly nervous about what 'primitive techniques' the Doctor was going to use. She cast an amused glance over her shoulder as the ensign proceeded into the Doctor's office. Keeping a brisk pace, Seven headed toward the science lab that had been set up in _Voyager_'s little community. So far, several small houses had been set up on the perimeter of the clearing, each bunking four people. They were built out of lumber which had been cut down. It wouldn't hold in a wintertime environment, however, early geological surveys showed that this planet, which the crew had dubbed Haven, had a fairly consistent temperature. All of the other building were going to be put in the middle of the huts. A science lab with equipment nearly as antiqued as the Doctor's was already built, along with a mess hall run by none other than Neelix. A sickbay of sorts was still under construction, along with a bathing facility that was being set up about an eighth of a kilometer away next to the stream.

            Stepping into the "lab," Seven carefully avoided the Captain. Janeway was at a microscope, studying whatever was under it. In the past three days, the Captain seemed to have awaken from her depression and become fanatic in her quest to learn more about the planet. Seven had come in this morning, only to find that Janeway had stayed through the night. Of course the Captain wanted to learn more about her new home, but why should she be allowed to stay up when Seven was forced to perform in this ridiculous ritual known as sleep? Whatever her reasons, Seven chose to ignore them. She set herself to work classifying poisonous plants.

            Several hours later, and it was already 2030. Seven began packing away samples knowing the Doctor would soon come to escort her to the bunk that she shared with Icheb, Tuvok, and Vorik. The Doctor often deactivated himself at her bedside, in case she had trouble falling asleep and required assistance.

            As she packed the plants into their individual containers, Chakotay came in and put a hand on Janeway's ever working form. Leaning down, he whispered something in her ear, and she just shook her head, eye's still glued on the microscope. The former drone felt a twinge of – what was it? – regret. Her and Chakotay's relationship had come to an abrupt halt during the first week on Haven.

            _Seven placed an arm around Chakotay, looking for the comfort she had always assumed came with a mate. It sat there for a moment, limp, still searching for warmth. Chakotay finally pushed it away, looking into her eyes. The night's darkness prevented her from actually seeing him, but she could feel the heat of his gaze boring into her. A warm rush of air swept away the silence that hung between them._

_            "Seven, this has to end." She was at a lost for words. Her lessons with the Doctor never covered breaking up. She had assumed that Chakotay was the one for her, and that their relationship was secure, her own private collective that was never-ending. And with that, Chakotay gave her one final kiss on her forehead, a gentle, feather light kiss of a father, stood up, and walked away._

And despite all that had happened between them, she didn't mind; Chakotay was an above average mate, but he lacked her love, the feeling that the crew described as a immeasurable and vast warmth. Seven still had the highest respect for him, but there was this illogical, nagging feeling at the back of her mind…it had felt so right, but something had been missing…

            She was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a Petri dish hitting the floor. Chakotay picked up, a hand still on Kathryn's arm, guiding her outside. Kathryn looked disheveled, a child who was denied her toys. The commander threw and amused glance at Seven, and then gently ushered Kathryn out the door.

            Seven placed the singular Petri dish back where it belonged, and then proceeded to the doorway, where she ran straight into the Doctor, who stumbled backwards, falling onto the ground. She extended a hand towards him, and then retracted it, slightly flustered.

            "Excuse me, Doctor, I'm sorry. I hope you are okay…" Seven immediately realized she was babbling. Of course he was okay! He was only a force field full of protons. He held up a hand from his spot on the floor.

            "No, no, it's okay Seven. I should have been watching where I was going." He stood up, brushing off the dust that covered the back of his projection. He smiled up at her, and she forced a smile back. He extended his arm in the direction of their hut.

"After you, Miss Seven of Nine." She gave him an amused look, and then started off into the darkness.


	12. Tuvok

~ Tuvok ~

Tuvok was sitting on the floor of the cabin, legs crossed, back straight, regulating his breathing for meditation. Vorik was doing the same, and Icheb was already in bed, asleep. The lights were out to enhance concentration. He inhaled for ten counts, and then exhaled for ten counts. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. It was an infinite pattern that bestowed the most fundamental stability in Tuvok's life. He had found at an early age that being alone with his thoughts provided him with a certain…satisfaction. Being alone with one's _katra_, the darkness, the quiet…

Crash!

Vorik was immediately on his feet. Icheb sat up in bed, breathing heavily. As for Tuvok, he merely opened his eyes, perturbed that his private moment had been interrupted. He reached for the small oil lamp he had and lit the flame, casting a shadow onto the intruders.

Seven of Nine and the Doctor were near the entrance, trying to straighten out the lamp they had knocked over. The Doctor was actually a bit red in the face from having caused such a disturbance. When they had it back up, Seven reached across the Doctor and turned it on. Icheb was still in bed, and his breathing was regulated, while Vorik was poised with a phaser, ready to defeat the trespassers. Tuvok stood.

"At ease, Ensign." Vorik lowered his weapon as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Good grief, Tuvok! We could have killed ourselves walking in here, or at least Seven could have! Why were the lights off?" The Doctor looked incredibly annoyed, so Tuvok drew a breath in hopes to mollify them.

"Doctor, as you well know, I routinely meditate at 2200." Tuvok replied in a monotone.

"Well, why did you start early tonight? Did you forget about us?" The Doctor challenged.

"No. I was well aware of your absence. However, you and Seven were not back by you usual time, 2105. I had assumed that you were both preoccupied with other assignments and were unable to come back tonight, hence why I did not wait up.

"Oh. I…I hadn't realized it was so late!" The Doctor turned towards Seven. "We need to get you to bed! Here's a hypospray to make sure you get a good night's sleep." The Doctor procured a hypospray from behind the bed on a small shelf. With a hand under her elbow, he guided Seven to her bed, still fully clothed. Apparently, the Doctor was unaware of that fact. Once she was tucked in, he turned back to the others, although Icheb was already fast asleep.

"Well, Tuvok, Vorik, I'm sorry for disturbing you both. I hope your meditation goes well!" He flashed a smile at them both and waved, while taking off his mobile emitter at the same time, fading away. Tuvok turned to Vorik.

"Vorik, may I suggest resigning to bed early tonight? It will take too long to achieve the desired meditative state, and we will deprive ourselves of the energy we will need for tomorrow." Vorik nodded acknowledgement and turned to prepare himself for sleep. Tuvok did the same, but found himself unable to put his mind fully at rest. As soon as the younger Vulcan was asleep, Tuvok headed outside, under the stars.

The solar system of Haven was crowded with stars. Just last week, Tuvok recalled running into two ensigns who had been trying to pick out shapes in the heavens. The cluster of stars that were 46.5º to the north east of his vantage point had been dubbed "shipwreck" and indeed, they did bear resemblance to a shipwreck; the large triangle with a column of stars rising above it was the splintered mast of the old seafaring ships, a group of stars beneath it the rollicking waves and jagged rocks. The symbolism of this constellation was not lost on the Vulcan, or the rest of the crew, for that matter.

Tuvok seated himself against one of the walls of their habitat, facing the next one, which was occupied by the Captain, commander, Lt. Paris, and Lt. Torres. Small streaks of lamp light were visible from the cracks in the wall, voices whispering from inside the wooden box, plotting, scheming…

Drawing a breath, Tuvok rooted himself firmly in reality again. Imagination was a dangerous thing Tuvok chided himself. Vulcans were essentially the same as humans, and a creative imagination was no exception to that. Children were instructed at an early age on Vulcan to control their thoughts, that it was a wistful thing to go about daydreaming, although most still indulged until a later age. Nevertheless, the mind's eye was persistent, and Tuvok had caught himself on more than one occasion. No doubt, it was the effects of his illness. On _Voyager_, the Doctor had been able to create a medicine to help slow down the process, but without the aid of a replicator, he was unsure of what would happen. The effects of the disease…unsettled him, even through his barrier against emotions. The lack of disorder that would come over him was appalling to a Vulcan. A friend of his on Vulcan, Varan, had a father who had contracted the disease, during a time when mind melds were still experimental. It had never occurred to doctors to use his family's telepathic abilities to cure him. Sarban was kept under quarantine, and was allowed a visit once a month from his family. Tuvok had gone once, on the orders of his mother, to accompany Varan's mother, T'Vel, as her son could not go.

_Tuvok entered the room behind T'Vel. It was sparsely decorated, and the lights were dim. The attendant who had escorted them in forewarned Tuvok about Sarban's medical condition. He had hardly believed that Sarban could succumb to such a state. Sarban was a model Vulcan, praying in the morning and at sunset, working the Disciplines with diligence, giving enough time to his family to bring up three well-disciplined children, and still making breakthrough's at the __Vulcan__Research__Center__._

_But as Tuvok spotted Sarban, all of his preconceived notions of the Vulcan vanished._

_Sarban was hunched in a corner, muttering to himself, toying with something in his hands. He hadn't turned around to acknowledge his wife, but the momentary pause in his motions gave Tuvok a sign that he was aware of their presence. T'Vel took her spot in the solitary chair in the center of the room, Tuvok taking up position behind her. He was unsure what T'Vel hoped to accomplish, with Sarban being in this state._

_"Varan has started work at the __Vulcan__Research__Center__, studying the effects of transporters on…" T'Vel started to talk to Sarban in the monotone, emotionless voice that characterized Vulcans. She continued for 33 minutes before stopping._

_Until then, Sarban had given no indication that he was paying the slightest attention to his wife's stories of their children, their home, their life. But when she stopped, Sarban turned his face toward the two intruders._

_Sarban's eyes had become 1.4 cm wider, giving him the appearance of a scared child. His hair was messy, and his clothes ragged. The monstrous eyes focused in on his wife, and then on Tuvok. Deeming neither one a threat, he turned around and crawled over to T'Vel, hands still clenched on his treasure. Laying a head on T'Vel's lap, he opened his fist, and let the remains of a family picture flutter into her knees like dying birds. T'Vel simply placed a hand on his bent form and muttered a prayer for the ill in Ancient Vulcan under her breath that sounded very rehearsed and heartless. With a parting pat on his back, she stood, released herself from Sarban's grasp, and left. Tuvok, still perplexed by Sarban's state, stood rooted to the ground, watching Sarban's reaction._

_Sarban, with all the energy left in him, stood as straight as his crooked back would allow, hobbled over to the plexiglas door, and banged on it with his fists, his voice raised, crying for his wife. The attendant came in and tried to mollify Sarban, while ushering Tuvok out. Tuvok set a brisk pace to catch up with T'Vel, who had continued on down the dark hallway without looking back, the cries of "T'Vel! T'Vel!" following them both._

Tuvok's head snapped up, awaking himself from the memory. A trail of tears had worked its way down Tuvok's face. Implausible in any other Vulcan, but Tuvok could not justify his condition with himself. And it created a rage inside the Vulcan that could not be felt at all.


	13. Neelix

~ Neelix ~

            "Fresh tajaberries and cragas this morning!" Neelix bellowed to the weary crew that was waiting in line for breakfast. Tom Paris, bleary eyed, came up to him, holding out his mess kit.

            "Tajaberries and what?" He asked, dumbfounded. With some effort, Tom tried to open his eyes, but this early in the morning, all he could manage to do was squint. The joyful Talaxian almost hopped up and down as he revealed his latest discovery.

            "Tajaberries and cragas, Mr. Paris! I found the tajaberries fresh this morning! They've already been checked off by Seven as edible. And the cragas!" Neelix pointed to a slice of the melon like fruit. It looked like an overgrown peanut in shape, but with a soft fruit on the inside.  "What a treasure those are! They taste incredibly bright, and are sure to wake you up this morning!" Neelix prodded Tom with and elbow. "And you're lucky. These ones don't have any of those nasty worms in them. I accidentally fed one to Crewman Guarro and she had to go to the Doctor because – "

            "Stop. Just, stop, Neelix. I'm sure these will be…fine." Tom forced a smile at the chef. Oh, how brave these humans were! Occasionally they could do something stupid, have a lapse in judgment, but they certainly were brave! Tom turned around and headed off towards the remains of last night's fire.

            "Enjoy!" Neelix shouted after him, as he placed some more of the new fruit on Icheb's plate.

            "Thank you for the nutritional supplement, Neelix." Icheb said, already digging into his craga.

            "Be sure to come back for seconds, Icheb!"

            "Of course, Neelix."

            As Neelix continued to dish out the fruit to various crewmembers, he recounted to the line how he had found the wonderful cragas.

            "I had been out by myself in the woods, taking a walk. I used to love playing in the woods when I was growing up on Rinax. There's really nothing better than a morning walk in the woods to wake you up," Neelix said to various people, shaking his fork as if admonishing them for not getting up any earlier. "Well, this morning, I decided to stop down by the river, where they're building the bath house. You know the place? I had just stopped to catch my breath."

            _Sitting down, Neelix leaned up against the large trunk of a tree, stretching his legs out. The river was quite beautiful and the small woodland creatures that were running beside it equally amazing. There was this one breed; it had seven legs that it scurried around on: three on either side, one on the back. It was backed up against the river at one of the shallower parts, fishing with its tail. When it saw one of the aqua animals coming, it used its extra leg to grab it and snap its neck._

            "Neelix, we're about to eat. We really don't need to hear this…" B'Elanna started, putting a hand on her swollen belly and handing her plate to the Talaxian, who gave her an extra craga.

            "I'm sure you tough Klingons can stomach it! But just wait, I'm getting to the good part…"

            _I was watching this little monkey-like animal bustle around with its morning food, when a craga fell on my head! I looked up, and I couldn't see anything; the tree I was sitting below had many, many leaves on it, as bright and colorful as the sunrise. But there certainly weren't any cragas there, I can assure you of that! I picked it up and scanned it with my tricorder, and then sliced off a piece with my knife, and ate it…_

"But, Uncle Neelix, the tricorder can't catch everything!" Naomi said as she popped a tajaberry in her mouth. "You could have died!" Neelix patted her back.

            "Oh, it's okay Naomi. I had a hunch. Just don't let me catch you doing that, or your mother will have a fit." He winked in Samantha Wildman's direction, who smiled warmly, and then ushered her daughter along.

            _It had an amazing taste! I knew I simply had to bring some back for the rest of the crew, except that…I didn't know where they had come from. I was about to get up and look around for them, when two more fell on my head. Setting the first craga on the ground, I shed my jacket and climbed up the tree. Up there, it was dark, except for the little bit of light that was filtering in from below._

_            And there were three large, red eyes staring back at me._

The crew that was still waiting in line had stopped moving, partly because they were enthralled with the exuberant Talaxian's story, partly because he had stopped serving them.

            "Well, I fell right out of that tree! I was so scared of it that I ran to where I had abandoned my jacket and fetched my phaser! I didn't want to hurt the poor thing, but who knows what it would do. I waited behind another tree, and the creature just stayed in the tree, thrashing about. I was so worried that I had disturbed its habitat and that it might hurt itself bouncing around up there, but it eventually scampered down and ran away. As I approached the tree again, I noticed that all of these cragas had been knocked down, and, well, no use in letting them go to waste!" Neelix beamed at the crew, who was applauding him.

            "Well, it looks like we have our own Isaac Newton." Janeway said with a wry smile as she came up to him with her plate, confusing the Talaxian. Seeing that she was the last in line, he gave her a few extra pieces of food to make up for all the weight she had lost. She had been looking healthier in the past few days, and the rosy glow had returned to her cheeks. Well, it wouldn't hurt!

            "Isaac who, Captain?"

            "Oh, it's okay Neelix. Outstanding job on finding such good fruit." She smiled at him again, and then retreated to her cabin with breakfast.

            "Thank you, Captain!"


	14. Tom

~ Tom ~

            Tom carefully took the tissue samples over to the small freezer where the others where being kept. As Tom opened to freezer up, he let out a sigh at the amount in there. And they still had one crew member left. These were going to take forever to go through between just him and the Doc! Tom went ahead and put the latest samples on the top, wandering what it had been about the medical field that had put him in this position.

            "Mr. Paris, you're just putting a sample away! We aren't even testing them yet! What's taking so long?" The Doctor's singsong voice called over from the far corner of the small sickbay. With a glance of contempt at the Petri dishes, the helmsman shut the freezer door.

            Well, actually, it was ex-helmsman. There wasn't exactly much flying to be done when stranded on a planet, so the Doctor had immediately figured this out and requested Tom's help in all things medical. Which had made Tom irritable. He shuffled over to where the Doctor was prepping his supplies for the last check-up.

            "Are we really going to have to check all of those samples with microscopes, just the two of us?"

            "Of course, Mr. Paris! I certainly can't do it on my own, and you were the most compatible candidate for the job."

            "Are you sure you don't have any other compatible candidates who could help?"

            "No. We're the only ones here who know what we're doing, so we'll check all 98 samples by hand ourselves." The Doctor put a hand on Tom's shoulder and smiled. "Doesn't that just make you proud that you are only one of two beings here that can do this?"

            "Immensely." Tom said dryly, shrugging the hand off, just as their last patient came in.

            Kathryn Janeway walked through the doorway…on time. Tom had to look up at the chrono just to make sure this was right. The Captain was never on time for a check-up, and Tom was starting to wander just what had gotten into her system when the Doctor shoved a tricorder in his face.

            "Why don't you start with the basic medical readings while I go and fetch her file." With the tricorder shoved into his hands, Tom opened it up and started scanning the Captain.

            "Okay," Tom muttered to himself, just low enough that the Captain couldn't hear him. "Cranium is looking good, nothing crawling around in her brain, nothing toxic in her lungs, nothing poisonous in her digestive tract – wait, what's this?" He must have said the last part a little bit too loudly, as Janeway's head swiveled to face his.

            "Is their a problem, Tom?"

            "Eh, no. Just a slight malfunction." Tom tried to recalibrate the tricorder to no avail. He finally went and fetched another one. Same readings. "Oh, shit," he thought with a grin. Tom continued scanning the rest of her, and, deeming her in perfect health, went to the Doctor, who was still rummaging around PADDs.

            "Tom, have you seen the Captain's file? I can't – "

            "Doc, I need some of your, er, expertise." The Doctor stopped his search to look up at the lieutenant.

            "What is it, Mr. Paris?" Tom shoved the tricorder and its results under the Doctor's nose. He read them over and looked back up.

            "Are you sure these are right?"

            "Yup. I checked the tricorder to make sure it was functioning right, and even got another one."

            "Well, I suppose we have to tell her…" The Doctor started towards the Captain, tricorder in hand, with Paris flanking him, when a grunt from outside caught their attention. Janeway was about to go to the door, when B'Elanna came in, incredibly pale, with Vorik and Tuvok on either side. She was panting heavily.

            "It's…time…"

            Janeway looked from B'Elanna to the Doctor, who was already prepping a make-shift bio bed, and Tom, who was still glued to the spot.

            "It's time…for the baby?" Tom asked in awe. B'Elanna was not in the mood.

            "Yes! For the baby, Tom!" She forged past him to where the Doctor had prepared a place for her. Tom rushed after his wife to give her support, but was stopped by the Doctor and his damn tricorder.

            "Mr. Paris, you'll need to monitor B'Elanna's condition while she's gives birth. Without _Voyager_'s facilities at my disposal, I'll be needing to do some multi tasking." Tom sighed and took the tricorder, opening it up and checking the child. His child. Their child.

            "It's going to be okay B'Elanna. Just breath in and out steadily…"


	15. B'Elanna

~ B'Elanna ~

            Breathe? Like she really had a choice in that! Tom was still hovering over her, scanning. She wanted this thing out! The Doctor came to the other side of her, holding a PADD. 

            "What's that for?" B'Elanna asked. The Doctor seemed to flush the slightest bit with embarrassment.

            "Well, without my advanced medical knowledge data banks, I need a PADD with the information on it for troubleshooting..."

            "Troubleshooting?!?!" B'Elanna bellowed in disbelief.

            "Although I'm sure I won't need it here." The Doctor quickly reassured her with a smile. He circled to where Tom was still checking progress. "Well, B'Elanna, it looks like you will have a quick delivery. My little goddaughter is certainly impatient!" He beamed at both parents and then continued around the bed to the end.

            "Hmm…it could be a few minutes until we're ready to start. B'Elanna, if you feel up to it, I would like for you to walk around a little bit, just to help bring the baby itself down with its own weight." Tom started to close the tricorder to help his wife up, but she was two steps ahead, already walking around the cramped room. He tried to put an arm around her for support, but she shrugged it off. No need for that. She was a Klingon! B'Elanna walked a little more, until she doubled over with pain in her womb. Tom grabbed for the tricorder.

            "Doctor…" he started.

            "It's okay, Lieutenant. Let's lie her back down and get ready for one healthy child!" B'Elanna tried to manage a smile, but it came out as a grimace. With the Doctor positioned at the edge, he started to give instructions.

            "Okay B'Elanna…on the count of three, push! One…two…three!"   B'Elanna, up on her elbows, bore down with all her might. She could hear the Doctor's sigh.

            "Harder, next time! One…two…three!" Again, B'Elanna pushed. And again. And again. With a cry of frustration, she laid back down on the bio bed. From above her knees and swollen belly, she could see the Doctor's bald head rise up, and a hand grab the PADD.

            "I thought you said we didn't need that!" she said, exasperated.

            "Well, I lied!" he replied. His fingers skimmed over the controls, and his eyes seemed to simply digest the information so quickly! Tom still held the tricorder, slack in hand, watching everything in wonder. She turned her attention back toward the end. Setting the PADD down, the Doctor lowered himself again.

            "Okay. This time, I'm going to make a small cut and try to reach in and grab the baby."

            "Can you do that?!"

            "Well, the literature says that if the baby is trying to come out feet first, which yours is, that we need to – "

            "Never mind, Doc! Just…go!"

            "Okay, if you insist. One…two…three!"

            For the slightest second, B'Elanna felt herself black out, experiencing the gruesome pain and awesome power, all at once. The cut into her uterus hurt like hell, and the Doctor wasn't exactly helping, but the power of bearing, it was…amazing. And then she could see again, not as an observer, but as a mother. From somewhere not too far away, a small howl went up in the air, a triumphant battle cry from the little warrior. B'Elanna couldn't help but smile. This child was indeed part Klingon, and as the Doctor set little Miral in her arms, she realized she wouldn't have had her any other way.


	16. Kathryn

~ Kathryn ~

            Kathryn watched as the Doctor wrapped little Miral in the blanket Tom provided. As Tom set the newest member of the family in her mother's arms, Kathryn felt a slight pain in her heart. Miral was making soft gurgling noises at B'Elanna, who kissed the small ridges on Miral's forehead in response. The birth had been fascinating to watch. She was surprised that she hadn't been kicked out, but she guessed that the Doctor and Tom had forgotten about her after B'Elanna came in.

            Or not. The Doctor was now walking towards her, a tricorder in hand.

            "Captain, why don't we step outside for a minute to talk, and leave the new parents to Miral." The Doctor gestured her towards the door, and she stepped outside into the sunlight. He started towards the outer ring of the woods to stroll, and she took his lead and followed. Kathryn squinted into the sunlight, and clasped her hands behind her back, keeping the slow pace the Doctor had set. It was indeed a nice day outside. For a few moments, it was just blissful silence and enjoying the scenery. Many woodland creatures scuttled about underneath the blazing sun. Kathryn finally broke the silence, turning a head towards the Doctor, who was still strolling alongside her.

            "Surely, Doctor, you didn't bring me out here to tell me I'm dying," she prompted.

            "No, no. Actually, you are much healthier than I thought you would have been considering how much weight you've lost and all the food you've been throwing away." Her cheeks flamed suddenly. "Yes, Commander Chakotay came to me with that particular concern. Believe it or not, he cares about your health. As well he should." Kathryn continued to walk, waiting for his judgment of herself. He didn't bring her out her to tell her she was fine. What was wrong?

            "Doctor, I'm going to be blunt. What's wrong with me? You don't have to sit here and beat around the bush, because I've been through it all." She raised a hand and ticked off fingers. "I've mutated into another specie, I've contracted the seemingly incurable disease, I've died in multiple time lines, I've done it all!"

            The Doctor stopped and faced her, a warm smile on his face, quite unlike his usual goofy smile. Kathryn felt a slight tingling at the base of her skull, a foresight of what he was going to say. She slowly turned towards him, hoping to delay the inevitable, unknown verdict. Time seemed to come to an excruciatingly slow speed.

            "You're pregnant."

            And then time did a double take and sped up incredibly fast. The woman in her was happy. The Captain in her was disappointed. And the Kathryn was confused more than she had ever been. She was faintly aware of the Doctor's voice.

            "…Captain? Captain, are you all right?"

            "Yes, yes I'm fine," she replied, perhaps a little too strained.

            "Captain, you should know that Mr. Paris is quite aware of your condition, which means the entire camp will know by tomorrow's breakfast." She nodded, and turned to go. The Doctor was still talking, so she turned back, trying to make an effort to listen.

            "Captain, I will need to see you tomorrow morning to run some tests and scans to make sure the fetus is okay." She nodded her acknowledgement. "Oh, and if I may ask, who is the father?" That finished it. Janeway walked at a rather brisk pace back to the cabin she resided in with…him…and sat down on the bed, calmly collecting herself.

            "Okay." She collapsed her hands on her lap. "Okay, I'm pregnant. By my first officer. And the whole crew is going to know." Kathryn flung herself back on the bed, resting an arm across her face. Her shame was going to be made public to everyone by tomorrow. Then everyone would know that the Captain and commander of _Voyager_ had succumbed to their feelings and were now laying around without publicly acknowledging it, like harlots. How terrible! This child was going to just complicate things more…

            Kathryn's fingers slipped down to her stomach, and her face lit up. On the other hand, this is what she had always wanted, wasn't it? A child by the man she loved. In some ways, Kathryn was surprised; she had thought herself past being able to bear a child. Now, what to do about telling Chakotay…

            She didn't have to wait long before he came in with lunch. Chakotay was teetering two trays of food on one arm, with his other hand carrying a stack of PADDs. He smiled hello and shut the door with a foot.

            "I brought you some food. You weren't in line, and I figured you had come back early to read a report on something…what?" Chakotay asked playfully, when he saw the grin on her face. "What trouble have you gone and gotten yourself into now?" She smiled to herself. Over the past few months, their relationship had become so much more…relaxed. It had always been relaxed on _Voyager_, but this was different. It was very open. Kathryn put on a face of mock disbelief.

            "I haven't a clue what you're talking about Chakotay." She rolled over on her belly, and then decided to sit up on the bed, legs dangling over the side. "It's actually not my fault, you know." Kathryn smiled inwardly. This could be fun, slowly dragging it out.

            "What's that supposed to mean?"

            "Well, I have it on excellent authority that this is actually your fault!" she said teasingly. Now Chakotay truly looked dumbfounded.

            "My fault?"

            "Yes!" Chakotay brought over a tray for her and plopped it in her lap, and then went to his bed to eat, picking up a PADD and skimming over the contents. He feigned disinterest for a few moments, but Kathryn knew him better than that: he would simply have to know, eventually.

            So she bided her time, watching him. He ate slowly, went over several PADDs, and even spent some time toying with his fork. Finally, he looked up, only to see her watching.

            "Okay. Tell me. I'm all ears."

            Kathryn got up, placing her tray on the ground, and went to sit next to Chakotay, who immediately got up and fetched the abandoned food. He sat back down next to her on his bed, and placed the tray in her lap. She rolled her eyes; she knew what was coming.

            "The Doctor says you need to eat more. He's always commenting on how unhealthy you look."

            "Actually, that's who I just came from." His eyes searched hers.

            "And – what? What's wrong that actually has you smiling?"

            "And," she leaned in a little, resting her head on his shoulder, "I'm pregnant."

            It took him so long to react that she thought that maybe she hadn't said anything yet. He just sat there, still looking straight ahead, etched in stone. Kathryn drew a breath and was about to repeat herself when Chakotay laid an arm, so carefully, around her shoulder. She could have sworn his breathing had come to a temporary halt, and the next breath he drew was ragged. They simply sat there for a moment, and then he spoke.

            "Are you okay with this?"

            "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

            "Kathryn, for seven years you fought me in our relationship boundaries. All for preserving public image. I know you love to keep that immaculate, and I love you for it. But we come down to this planet, and two and a half months later the entire crew is going to find out one morning that not only have we been sleeping together since we landed, but you're pregnant. And we concealed all of that from them. That's not exactly my Kathryn's idea of a great image, now is it?" Chakotay smiled at her.

            "No, not really. But I'm okay with it now." She could feel his eyes scrutinizing her.

            "Really?" Kathryn laughed.

            "Yes Chakotay! I really am!"

            "Good." Chakotay leaned in and kissed the top of her head, and then she stood up.

            "Oh, and by the way, no one actually knows that you're the father. I didn't tell the Doctor, so I'm sure you'll have plenty of people asking." He looked at her quizzically.

            "Why didn't you tell him?"

            "I…I was a little confused about the whole situation. I didn't really feel like talking about anything at the moment."

            "Well, okay. As long as they know eventually." He smiled at her lightheartedly.

            "So, the Doctor wants to give me a check up in the morning, but I would rather go now and get it out of the way. What would you say to coming with me, and we can visit the new parents while we're there." At the confused expression on his face, she continued. "Didn't you hear? B'Elanna gave birth this morning to a healthy Miral!" Chakotay stood and opened the door for her.

            "Well, in that case, let's go." Chakotay said, following Kathryn over the threshold.


	17. Chakotay

~ Chakotay ~

            The walk to sickbay was a long one. Even with their cabin being one of the closest, the trip seemed to take forever.

            Father. He was going to be a father! The idea kept spinning around in Chakotay's mind. It was going to take a while to get used to that. With a sideways glance, he looked at the woman who was going to make it all possible.

            Kathryn was walking to sickbay like it was any other day, with the possible exception that she would never go to sickbay willingly for herself. This was for the child. She greeted crew men and managed to exude power and authority, even though they were no longer on a ship. During the past few weeks, Chakotay had gradually seen the change come about: she was finally back in charge, fully aware of herself.

            Just before they entered sickbay, Chakotay drew Kathryn against him in a tight hug. "I love you," he whispered into her ear. She gently eased out of his embrace, looking a little taken aback by the sudden display of affection in public.

"I love you too Chakotay," she said, and she pushed the door open.

Chakotay saw a tired B'Elanna and ecstatic Tom sitting on the far side of sickbay. B'Elanna was propped up against several pillows, and Tom was making gurgling sounds with little Miral, bouncing her up and down. She loved it. When B'Elanna saw him, a smile lit up her face.

"I was wandering when you were going to come visit me!" He leaned down and embraced her.

"I just heard the good news. I was in the woods earlier today when you went into labor, so I missed all the fun," he kidded. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm doing just fine, although I think Tom's gotten more joy out of this than I have so far." B'Elanna motioned to her husband, who was now blowing softly on the baby's tummy. "Tom!" she called over to him. "Tom! Why don't you share her with the rest of us?" B'Elanna motioned to Chakotay. Tom carefully sat the child into Chakotay's arms.

It was awkward at first, because he wasn't sure what to do with her. But Chakotay got over his shyness quickly when Miral started to grab at his neck with one hand, while waving the other tiny fist in the air. Cute was typically a word Chakotay didn't use, but here, he thought it was a perfect description.

"How's little Miral? Does she like her Uncle Chakotay's shirt?" Chakotay could never understand the allure of talking to baby's, and yet he found himself doing just that.

"May I see her?"

Janeway came up behind Chakotay and held out her hands. The parents nodded their permission, and Chakotay put the small bundle in her arms. She readjusted it, and then started to rock Miral back and forth. Kathryn actually had a beautiful handle on the child. She looked so natural, standing their, purring softly to Miral. When Miral started to doze off, Kathryn set her back down in B'Elanna's arms.

"She's beautiful." B'Elanna thanked Janeway, who moved away, back towards where the Doctor was. Chakotay leaned down and gave tiny Miral a kiss on the top of her head.

"Well, I'm afraid I need to excuse myself. Will you guys be back in the cabin tonight?" Tom shook his head.

"No, I think we may stay here for a few days, until we've put up another house. Unfortunately, Miral here has inherited her mother's third lung, and can throw some great fits. We don't want to keep you guys up all night, and the Doctor will be a great babysitter until then." Chakotay was about to protest and then thought better off it. He said his good byes once more, and then turned around to find Kathryn. She was behind a screen with the Doctor, who was running the tricorder over her belly. He snapped it shut and turned to Chakotay.

"Ah, commander, just in time! I was just about to announce how old the fetus is and other baby facts!" He beamed at the command team. "You can take a seat right over there," he said, motioning to a chair.

"Well, it looks like you have a healthy, two week old, child. Now," he eyed them both, "here's the important part. Mommy here will need to eat right. Which means no throwing away any more food. In fact, if Daddy here – wait – you are the father, right?" Chakotay gave Janeway an impatient glance. She just smothered a smile. The first of many. He could see this possibly getting old quick.

"Yes, I am."

"Oh, okay then! Well, if you would, you may just want to go back and fetch seconds for her occasionally." Janeway held up a hand.

"Doctor, I'm not disabled. Just pregnant."

The Doctor started to look as if he had said something dirty. "Well, with all due respect, Captain, I didn't mean it like that, but you should be taking it easy for a while."

"Ah, I knew there was going to be a catch." She smiled. The Doctor continued.

"I won't be confining you to quarters or anything, just don't overexert yourself. If you feel tired, then sit down, stop working, for just a few minutes. Just don't push it." His eyes silently pleaded with hers.

"Alright. I won't." He smiled at her.

"Good. Then I'll see you back in two weeks? Until then, commander, keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't do anything rash." Kathryn threw up her hands in surrender.

"With you two watching me, I certainly won't be able to sneak off and do anything!"

Chakotay just laughed and escorted her out of sickbay.


	18. Harry

~ Harry ~

            "You're joking."

            "No joke. I was there. I saw it. Trust me. I am definitely not joking." Tom rocked Miral in his arms, while recounting the day's events with Harry in sickbay.

            "So…she's really…" Tom laughed.

            "Yes Harry. She's really pregnant. You sound surprised." Harry just gaped at Tom.

            "Well…yeah! I am! I mean, she's the Captain – "

            "Harry, she's only human."

            That shut Harry up for a while. The ensign sat on a box in sickbay, watching Tom stroll back in forth, shushing Miral so she wouldn't wake an exhausted B'Elanna. She had stayed awake long enough for Harry to come in at his 1900 break, say hi, and drop asleep. Since then, Tom had been flexing his fathering talent and telling Harry all the latest gossip. He still couldn't believe it.

            "So…how old is her baby?" Harry asked. Tom pondered it for a second.

            "Oh, about two weeks is what the Doc said."

            "Hmm…may I hold Miral?"

            "Sure."

            Tom carefully laid Miral into Harry's arms. The last baby he had held was his cousin Jennifer's first child. He had forgotten how fake they almost felt. The weren't all that heavy, with such delicate features that you could easily forget it was alive.

Except for all of the noise that they made, which Miral had decided to start demonstrating.

"Uh, what did I do wrong?" The confused ensign looked up to his friend on guidance for mollifying the child. Tom just laughed.

"Harry, she's not some warp core breach that you can just fix with a switch. You have to gain her trust. Or at least that's what the Doctor told me, and its worked well so far," Tom yelled over the baby's racket. "Hurry up though, so we don't wake B'Elanna!"

With Tom's little help, he started to bounce the baby up and down carefully. After a few moments, she seemed to calm down, and eventually fell asleep in the young man's arms. Tom looked on in amazement.

"See? That wasn't so bad." He took Miral from Harry's arms and laid her down in the small wooden crib that Chakotay had built a few weeks back. He certainly hoped the commander's wood skill was as great as he bragged, or little Miral was in for a rough ride. With the child asleep, Tom took the chance to finally sit down and rest. But Harry needed to hear more about what was up.

"So…" He started. Tom just opened an eye.

"So…what?" Tom prompted.

"Well, who's the father?"

Tom sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Are we still on the Captain?"

"Yes."

"Well, gee, who do you think it is?"

"Chakotay?"

"And a weeks worth of replicator rations goes to the slow ensign!" Tom threw his hands up. "Of course it's Chakotay! Who else could it be?" Then he laid back against the wall. "Anything else you want to know about the Captain's private life?"

"No. That's enough. For now. See you later, Tom."

"Later, Harry."

Harry got up off his box, checking the chrono. He had been due back in the communications room 15 minutes ago, but that was okay. It was just him and Icheb tonight and the ex-Borg was always game to be alone. Sighing, Harry went out into the cool night, taking a mini flashlight with him so he didn't loose his way. Apparently, the moons on Haven were dark every two weeks, and tonight was the night. And when it was dark, it was pitch black. Stumbling around, Harry finally made into the small hut that had been assigned for communications. The Captain was insistent on trying to get some sort of messaging system up so the community could try and make some friends. Sure, they were out of Plak'han space, but they were out of Federation space. Fair game.

"Hello, Icheb. How's it going?" Harry shut the door behind him, drowning out the increasing noise of the wind.

"Well, Ensign. I have assembled the remaining components of the array. We could have the entire system functional by tonight." Icheb stood by the array, awaiting Harry's next order. Inwardly, Harry chuckled. Icheb had to be the only person Harry was given any measure of control over, but he certainly was never disappointed. The young man did exceptional work exceptionally quick.

"Unless you need to go to bed, we can go ahead an put it up tonight."

"No, sir. I believe that the others will be able to continue without my presence."

Harry smiled at Icheb. "Okay, but we're in for a long night."

"I am aware of that." Harry lifted up a piece of machinery and grinned.

"Let's go."


	19. Icheb

~ Icheb ~

            Icheb watched silently as Ensign Kim attempted to scale the metal side of the communications room. He had a foothold on his right side, but his left foot lacked adequate dents for him to acquire enough leverage to propel himself onto the roof.

            "Ensign Kim! Do you require assistance?" Icheb fought to have himself heard over the wind. He had not heard him.

            "Ensign Kim!" Icheb repeated himself two more times before Harry turned around. He was still trying to juggle the necessary wires and keep a good grip. The ensign half climbed, half fell back to the ground.

            "Icheb, you've got that superior Borg strength and agility. Maybe you can get up."

            "Actually, sir, the Borg aren't known for their agility – "

            "But you are. I've seen you play hover ball. C'mon. Just one shot, and then we may call it a night and wait until the wind dies down."

            Icheb nodded his acknowledgement and took the wires from Harry's outstretched hands. Ensign Kim gave him what humans referred to as the "thumbs up" and motioned him forward. With the cables in his left hand, he started his ascent towards the heavens. About seven eighths of the way up, Icheb ran into the same problem then ensign had: he did not have any more handholds. After surveying his other options, which were slim, he made a last ditch attempt. Tucking the wires into his belt, Icheb shoved himself upwards. His fingers grasped the edge of the roof, tucking into a small hole. With all his strength, Icheb pulled himself up and reached his other arm around. Icheb's fingers just barely brushed the top, and slipped off.

            Now, Icheb was holding the roof with just one hand, the other frantically searching for something to hold. His feet were trying to walk their way up the side, but without any real footholds, they stood no chance against the sleek metal.

            And now Icheb faced a dilemma: should he try and climb his way back down, or just drop?

            Icheb carefully weighed his choices in his mind. Both had drawbacks. He was in the middle of calculating the chance of success for each when he suddenly discovered that he didn't have to make a choice. Icheb's fingers had slipped. Because he was spending so much time thinking, his reactions were delayed, and Icheb was unable to grab hold of anything.

            Approximately 32 second later, Icheb's eyes fluttered open. He was on his back outside with Harry looking over him.

            "Are you okay?" the concerned ensign asked. Icheb blinked his eyes once more to focus them in on Harry's worried face.

            "Yes, sir, I believe I'm fine." Icheb raised himself up on both elbows. He could feel bruises already forming; he would be sore for the next few days. When he was finally on his feet, Icheb saw that Harry was looking at something through the trees, but when he was trying to ask what the ensign was observing, he was merely hushed. Icheb briefly experienced fear. According to preliminary scans, there was no other intelligent life here. What if the Plak'han had come back?

            But when Vorik stepped forward from the shadows, all of Icheb's worried were quickly put to rest. Harry let out a breath he had been holding.

            "Gosh, Vorik, you scared us! What are you doing out here?" Vorik merely looked at Harry with that impenetrable Vulcan stare. He clasped his hands behind his back.

            "I was going to inquire about the whereabouts of Icheb. It is past 2400, and I was concerned about his well-being."

            "Whatever." Harry turned back to Icheb, anxious. "Are you sure you're okay? We don't need to go wake the Doc?"

            "No. I am fine. However, I would like to attempt to get the array online tonight."

            Harry just shook his head. "Not after you fell down."

            "What is the problem?" Vorik inquired.

            "We're trying to get part of the receiver up on the roof for the communications array. Problem is, neither of us can make it up because the roof is so slick." Harry said.

            "That is an easy obstacle to overcome." Harry and Icheb watched as the young Vulcan scaled the wall and, with one of the tools, managed to create a rough but deep dent in the roof. He scampered back down, and Harry just laughed.

            "You know Vorik, that's coming out of your pay, not mine."

            Icheb swore that if the Vulcan could smile, he would have. Instead, he merely raised his eyebrows in a perfect Tuvok imitation and said, "I believe the Captain will not notice." Harry turned back to Icheb.

            "You're the lightest one of all of us. Think you can give the roof another go?"

            "Of course."

            Icheb went over to the wall and quickly climbed to the top. In place of where he had made his mistake last time was now a nice curved dent that Icheb could easily grip. With both hands firmly planted in the structure, the young man hefted himself onto the top. Seeing that he had made it, he turned around and gave Harry a "thumbs up".


	20. Vorik

~ Vorik ~

            The three of them worked all throughout the next two hours, carefully routing and rerouting power. It took quite a bit of effort to hoist the large array onto the roof, but it eventually was all on.

            Now to see if it worked.

            It was 0401, and Icheb looked tired. On the other end of the spectrum, Ensign Kim was simply ecstatic. In the middle of it all was the ever stoic Vorik. All three of them were standing around the communications console inside, grimy and sweaty. It was still off. All they had to do was flip a switch.

            "Well?" Icheb said

            "Well what?" Harry replied.

            Icheb wiped his arm across his brow. "Are we going to start up the communications array to see if it is functional?" Harry looked at Vorik.

            "Do you think we should wait for the Captain's permission?"

            "I am not the one in charge of this project, Ensign. I believe this is your decision."

            Actually, Vorik felt that they should wait for the Captain. Turning on this array would certainly alert passing ships of their presence. By turning this on, they may be quite literally giving up Haven. Harry turned back to him.

            "Vorik, I know it's your job as a Vulcan to be supportive, but I've seen Tuvok counter the Captain on the bridge enough times to know you're hiding something. What are your objections?"

            Vorik drew a breath to steady his thoughts. They were a tranquil pool, a pool that could very easily be disturbed with the dropping of one stone, with the flick of one switch, to the point where it could reverberate through everything, upsetting their natural balance. How had his ancestors made that decision so long ago to land on Earth, to give or withhold information from this new specie? How did they know that what they were doing wouldn't have catastrophic affects?

            Ensign Kim was still waiting for an answer when Vorik pulled himself out of his thoughts.

            "I believe that we should wait for the Captain's permission to turn on the entire array, as it is something she should be aware of. However, I find it illogical to have done all of this work without knowing if the machine will function or not before we present it to her. Perhaps we should power it up for a brief moment, to ensure that everything is, or at least appears to be, functioning properly." Harry nodded his agreement.

            "Sounds like a plan to me."

            The three men all gathered around the main console, which held a small display screen which could be used to view who they were communicating with, and several buttons that would allow whoever was on this end to cut the communication, start it, and so on. With Harry sitting in the single chair and Vorik and Icheb on either side, Harry flipped the single switch that would start up the entire array.

            For a few seconds, there was nothing but the whirring of the haphazard system and the held breaths of the Vorik, Harry and Icheb. They waited.

            "Maybe we need to reconnect the – " Harry muttered under his breath, but loud enough that Vorik's sensitive hearing could pick it up.

            "Wait!"

            Icheb was looking at the display monitor on his side. From what Vorik could recall, it showed any ships that were in the system. They were still working on getting it to expand further, but it seemed unlikely without building satellites and launching them, a costly process for a stranded crew.

            Vorik went around to see what Icheb had found, while Harry simply swiveled in the chair. But before Vorik could see what was captivating, Harry started issuing commands.

            "We need to get this off! Now!" Harry barked.

            Without question, Vorik waited as Ensign Kim punched the command sequence in that would shut down the entire device.

            Except that it wasn't working.

            The ensign tried again and again. Vorik checked over Icheb's shoulder to see what had caused this.

            Two ships were on sensors as being near the planet.

            And they were Plak'han.

            Vorik was about to turn around and sever a piece if wire, any wire, as long as it would stop the machine, but something on the main view screen caught his attention.

            A Plak'han was talking in its rapid language, a combination of clicks and whistles. Their beady eyes glared into the view screen, a direct death threat to the. Brief flashes of their last attack went through Vorik's mind. He wasn't sure what was being said, and didn't particularly care to know. Harry was still captivated by the alien when Icheb pulled out a wire and the screen went blank.

            Harry turned to face Vorik, an expression of dread on his face.

            "They're going to come get us…wipe us out…what did we ever do to them?" Harry said blankly.

            The truth of the matter was, Vorik did not know what had enraged the Plak'han so much as to kill off nearly a third of the ship. The only thing that had saved the rest of the _Voyager_s was the final blow Tuvok had sent in their direction, effectively blowing up their ship. But it wasn't enough to save _Voyager_. The crew had to resort to settling on this planet with their lack of supplies, simply because the Plak'han were out for them.

            "I am afraid I do not know the answer to that Ensign." He turned to Icheb. "You may go ahead and reconnect the wire so that we may present the system to the Captain in the morning."

            Icheb nodded his understanding, fixing the wire with the available supplies. Afterward, all three men went to bed without anyone being the wiser about the events that had transpired that night.


	21. Graa'lik

~ Graa'lik ~

            Graa'lik drummed her fingers on the command chair's armrest. She wiggled her four legs a little bit. It was dull sitting out in space, just patrolling for _Voyager_. Her superiors were quite insistent on this mission, and Graa'lik could see that it was very important to the Committee, the central part of the government on the Plak'han home world, Plak'ion. Rarely did it get involved in the affairs of other specie, but something was different about this group. Graa'lik tapped out another rhythm. She puffed her chest out, looking ahead to the rewards she would be gathering upon her return to space dock with _Voyager_ in tow. The Committee would pay her well. The sound of a klaxon interrupted her thoughts.

            "What is it?" Her second in command, Rek'kar, turned to face her at the center of the cramped bridge. While the ship did look large and imposing, it was actually small on the inside to make up for the impressive array of weapons on the outside. The ship, the _Karf'ka_, was the first of its class in the Imperial Armanda. No one could withstand its awesome power. The ship traveling with them, the _Zon'ak_, was a similar, much more antiqued, version.

            "Vek'ir Graa'lik, we have picked up a communications signal coming from Trek'ta Three. It's weak."

            "Is it them?"

            "Unsure. If they have settled here, then their signature will have probably been reconfigured."

            "Can you open a channel?"

            "Affirmative."

            "Do it."

            When the picture of three of the humanoids came into view, she started speaking, prepared to go down there and capture the lot of them that night. All three men looked perplexed, although the one in the middle wore an amusing expression that did not humor Graa'lik.

            "You will be taken aboard immediately and detained for questioning and a trial. Do not resist us. We will – " The communication went blank.

            "What the hell was that?"

            "We were cut off." Tras'ca, the communications officer, said.

            "I know that, you pralshan!" Tras'ca went quiet at the sever insult. "What I want to know is, how? I thought you have their systems so overloaded that they wouldn't be able to do that."

            "I don't know, Vek'ir." Tras'ca said submissively. Graa'lik sighed and settled back in her command chair, staring out at the view screen with compound eyes.

            "Fine. How many of them are down there?" Rek'kar looked up from his console.

            "Ninety eight."

            Graa'lik stood up from her post and paced around the front of the bridge. Although she was now considered a runt Plak'ion, she still found it hard to move around the bridge even with shorter legs than normal. With a little sidestep, Graa'lik managed to come next to Rek'kar.

            "I want you to assemble a ground force of about forty people. Go down to their camp in 36 hours, when its night. The moon will be dark as well, so choose your people wisely. We can't afford to mess this up because you had people who don't have suburb night vision." She leaned down so she could say the next part right in his ear, to ensure everyone else did not hear. "Go down there, and wipe every last one of them out, with the exception of their leader, and bring him to me." Rek'kar stiffened at the words. Despite the Plak'han's excellent military and heavy armory, most Plak'han where sensitive to killing. Even some of those that joined the Imperial Armanda resisted it with a passion. Nevertheless, Graa'lik had always found it to be easy, hence her swift rise in the chain of command.

            She turned around and carefully retraced her steps to the command seat. No sooner had she settled her back to legs when the klaxon started to ring again. Graa'lik swiveled, nearly catching her back legs in the chair.

            "What now?"

            Then the first volley of fire hit.

            Graa'lik could immediately tell that they were under attack by the Bistras. Only they had that kind of torpedo which could make your entire ship feel like it was melting out from under you. And it carried a large impact. The Plak'han had been experimenting with it for years to no avail. She was still pondering their weapon when a second blast hit.

            "Vek'ir, we've lost the_ Zon'ak_!" Tras'ca yelled over the klaxon.

            "Return fire!"

            "We can't! The Bistras have taken out our weapons!"

            "Shouldn't we have more weapons?"

"No, Vek'ir, it was such a surprise that they took them out before we could react."

            Damn them!

            "Shields?"

            "Failing!"

            She hated retreat, but she hated the idea of being torn apart by the peace loving Bistras more. As she signaled for them to jump to slipstream, Graa'lik wondered what Bistras wanted with the small culture that made them risk a skirmish with the Plak'han.


	22. Naomi

~ Naomi ~

            The sun peeked through little Naomi's cabin. She rolled over in the bed covers, trying to cling to the little bit of the dream that was left…something about _Voyager_…

            But before she could even remember the rest, Uncle Neelix pounced on the bed, shaking Flotter off. Even though she thought herself too old for such toys, Naomi did have a special place for Flotter, the only person who would always listen to her. Well, him and Uncle Neelix.

            "Naomi! Naomi!" Uncle Neelix called in his sing song voice. She loved it when he did that! "It's time to get up! Breakfast will soon be served, and I have to have you under my wing." Rolling over again, she squinted up at him.

            "What time is it?"

            "0800! And if you hurry, you can hear the spectacular news." Groaning, she sat up.

            "Alright. Uncle Neelix, I'll be out in five minutes. Just let me get dressed…" Catching the signal to go, he stood up and left, waiting outside the door.

            Naomi went to the small trunk Mom had salvaged from _Voyager_. The leather on it was old and had always looked so clean, but it was burnt from the fire that had broken out in the Wildman's quarters. She had remembered the look in Mom's eyes when she saw the damage, all of the possessions lost.

_Mom's eyes welled up with tears as she surveyed their quarters. Daughter looked up at mother for reassurance. The only kind she could find was the one that said _Go ahead, it's okay to cry._ The tears had spilled from her own eyes as well. She let them fall where they wanted, not caring. She wished she was back in the Mess Hall with Uncle Neelix, from before the attack. When it had hit, he took her to Sickbay, where the Doctor provided them with safety. But soon, they were told to leave, as the Sickbay filled up with bodies, so many bodies. A body had materialized on a bio bed nearby, swathed in white cotton. It wasn't until Uncle Neelix ushered her out so quickly that she realized the significance._

Uncle Neelix had been so brave! Leading her through Jefferies tubes, access routes, and around the small pockets of those aliens. Naomi tugged on her hair thoughtfully, pulling it back into a ponytail for the hot day ahead. Discarding the pajamas, she put on a light blue jumper that matched her eyes. Naomi bent over and picked up Flotter, replacing him on the bed.

_Picking through the wreckage, Naomi saw a piece of blue from under a panel. Stepping forward, she liberated an unharmed Flotter. Not caring what her mother thought of how childish she may seem, Naomi hugged Flotter close, sniffing, searching for the familiar smell of home. It wasn't to be found, but she was sure it would come back…so sure…_

Placing a light kiss on Flotter's head, Naomi found that he still smelled of wreckage, disaster. She would need to do something about that later…

Opening the door, she found Uncle Neelix leaning against the door jam, waiting.

"Well, little one, are you ready to go?" She giggled.

"Uncle Neelix, I'm not that little anymore." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, okay. But you're still little Naomi to me." Embracing her in a huge bear hug, they started off towards the center of camp where breakfast was waiting.

"I found some excellent fruit again for this morning. They taste remarkably like a sour apple, but I still don't know what to name them – "

"Oh, Uncle Neelix!" He stopped, turning to face her. She was just under his height, and she strained to look up at him with the sun dancing behind his hair. "What was the news you were going to tell me?" A look of thought crossed his face, and then it lit up.

"How could I have forgotten?" He leaned up against a nearby cabin, gesturing for her to join him. She leaned against the cool wood, shadowed from the impending sun. Looking back up at him, she saw the joy dancing in his eyes. It must be good news.

"Well, I heard it from Harry this morning, who heard from Tom last night, that – "

"Uncle Neelix, were you gossiping again?" He winked at her.

"My dear Naomi, what else do I have to do with my time? Besides, then I wouldn't be able to bring you this juicy information…" Giving in, she nodded her approval. "Well, it would appear that at the Captain's check-up yesterday, Tom found something."

"Is she okay?" His eyes danced in delight.

"Of course! Nothing could hurt her!" He kneeled down next to the little girl. "Naomi, she's pregnant!"

"She's going to have a baby?"

"Yes!"

"Whose going to be the daddy?" Uncle Neelix's eyes darted around in merriment. "Don't tell anyone I told you this, but I think it's the commander."

"Uncle Chakotay?"

"Yes! Now, let's get to breakfast before anyone realizes how late we are!" Brushing the dirt off of her dress, she followed Uncle Neelix toward the center of camp.

Another baby! She had hear about Miral's birth last night, and Uncle Tom had promised her time to visit when he was off shift and Aunt B'Elanna was feeling better. What fun, to be able to play with it! She imagined herself holding it, teaching it how to play the PADDs, having a friend close to her own age, yet she was wary of Aunt Kathryn's new condition.

Uncle Neelix had to admonish her once to watch her step; she nearly walked into another cabin. They made it to the breakfast ring without mishap. Upon approaching the clearing, they heard raised voice from the other side of the nearest cabin.

"…we been detected?" That was definitely Aunt Kathryn's voice. It was said in a hiss, a whisper.

"Affirmative. It appears…logs indicate that…Plak'han…communications severed." That must be Tuvok in his unwavering Vulcan voice of reason. Naomi stopped, straining to hear the rest of the conversation. Neelix had gone on ahead without her.

"How did this happen?"

"…array. It would…Ensign Kim…functional…night."

"Summon him and…Seven…Vorik too." Her voice had risen. She sounded angry.

A pause.

"Are we…danger?"

Danger? Could they be in any more danger. Naomi's breath quickened, her young mind racing for an explanation.

"Unknown, Captain. We should…safe."

"…posted."

Naomi could hear the sound of Tuvok's footfalls heading towards breakfast, and the swish of Aunt Kathryn's dress heading towards her. Curling up into a tiny ball, Naomi pressed herself against the cabin, hoping Aunt Kathryn wouldn't see her. She passed by, not even looking in her direction, muttering words under her breath that Mom would have washed her mouth at for. Thoughts of the new baby forgotten, Naomi ran towards the clearing, looking for safety in Mom's arms.


	23. Tuvok

~ Tuvok ~

            Tuvok turned and left the Captain muttering under her breath. When he had gone down to the communications room this morning to find a message in the buffer from Plak'han, he immediately informed the Captain. Unfortunately, Tuvok was unable to translate any of it, but the demeanor was enough. Clearly, he wanted them dead. Logs indicated that the message had been transmitted at 0405 and terminated in less than thirty seconds. The Captain made the logical conclusion of wanting to talk to the three most likely crew members. Facing the open space of breakfast, Tuvok looked through the people, trying to find his three targets: Ensign Kim, Ensign Vorik, and Seven of Nine. Scanning the sea of faces, Tuvok first spotted Seven of Nine sitting on a small crate on the south side of camp. He accessed her with ease.

            "Seven, Captain Janeway has requested your presence immediately in her cabin."

            "Understood." The epitome of efficiency, Seven of Nine did not hesitate as she handed her plate off to the Lieutenant she was seated with and headed towards Captain Janeway's quarters. Tuvok easily found Ensigns Kim and Vorik a few meters away. Chell, who was in the middle of telling a story to many crew members, hindered his approach. Eventually, he was upon the two ensigns, who were bent over in hushed discussion.

            "Ensign Kim, Ensign Vorik." Ensign Kim sprang back as if electrocuted, and even Ensign Vorik showed some apprehension as he sat upright. He eyed Ensign Kim. "Did you put up the communications array up last night?" Ensign Kim kept his head bent.

            "Yes."

            "Look at me when you speak, Ensign." He reluctantly raised his eyes to meet Tuvok's.

            "Yes."

            "After everyone was in bed?"

            "Yes."

            "Did you check to make sure it functioned?" Ensign Kim's feet were nervously kicking the dust on the ground.

            "Look, Tuvok, did you come here to tell up something? I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition." Missing the joke, Tuvok mildly admonished himself for questioning the ensign. It was not his place. Another side effect of the disease. Nevertheless, he wasn't willing to admit the mistake to Ensign Kim.

            "Yes, I did have a message. I am to escort both of you to Captain Janeway's quarters. Immediately."

            "But I still have some of this fruit to eat and – "

            "I suggest you leave it with someone else. The Captain was quite insistent."

            Both ensigns rose slowly, taking their time. He led them swiftly through the labyrinth of cabins. Casting a glance behind him, he noticed how far they were lagging behind, tired. It could be justifiable in Ensign Kim's case – he was well known for staying up late – but Ensign Vorik was another matter. As a Vulcan well should, he was predictably in bed by 2200 every night, including the last. The inexcusable behavior bothered him. Arriving in front of the cabin, he opened the door and stood by it as the two Ensigns caught up and slowly filed in. As Ensign Vorik stepped over the threshold, Tuvok followed suit and shut the door behind him.

            Four single beds had been pushed together to form two and two on either side. Raising an eyebrow, Tuvok realized the purpose, making a note to talk with the Captain later. It would not bode well for her to be having a relationship at the moment, especially after this morning. If they were indeed detected by the Plak'han, there was no telling what would happen.

            The Captain was not present. Seven of Nine was standing near the furthest wall, hands clasped behind her back, at as much ease as she ever allowed herself. Ensign Vorik joined her, and Ensign Kim collapsed on the bed.

            "Ensign Kim, may I remind you that these are not your quarters, and that you are not here for a social call. You are still on duty." Looking up, Ensign Kim's eyes seemed to express his distaste in Tuvok's speech. Indeed, more and more people were abandoning the command structure and falling into an easy going rapture that allowed room for mistakes and poor judgment. If the Plak'han were coming back, the military chain of command would need to be rectified swiftly as to protect the interests of the group. Tuvok was mulling over how to accomplish this when Captain Janeway walked in. Tuvok snapped to attention, and saw that Vorik did the same.

            "At ease." Her face was taunt, strained. One hand held a mug of a brown liquid, presumably coffee, or some substitute, while the other carried two PADDs. Setting the coffee down, she dropped the other PADD onto a nearby bed, pressing for the display on the other. She held it up for the three to see, just out of Tuvok's viewing range.

            "Do you know what this is?"

            Ensign Kim's eyes were downcast, and Ensign Vorik was stony.

            "A Plak'han, Captain." Seven said.

            "Yes. Which one of you put up the communications array last night?"

            Silence.

            "Well?"

            Captain Janeway started to pace in front of the three. Seven of Nine's icy blue eyes followed her every movement, head rotating as she went. Ensign Vorik looked straight ahead, perfectly still. Ensign Kim merely looked at the ground. Why weren't they answering? Tuvok took charge.

            "Ensign Kim."

            His head didn't move.

            "Ensign Kim!"

            Nothing.

            "Answer me, Ensign!"

            Tuvok's voice had risen, hand grabbing the neck of the Ensign's maroon shirt, effectively jerking his head up, startled eyes meeting the Vulcan's own. It wasn't until Tuvok looked in those eyes that he realized the ramifications of his actions. Captain Janeway was also staring, mouth wide, appalled. Ensign Vorik looked similarly astonished, and Seven had taken a step forward. He released his grip, Ensign Kim staggering backwards. Before anyone said anything, he spoke.

            "Excuse me. I believe I'm not…feeling well."

            And with that, he left.


	24. Seven of Nine

~ Seven of Nine ~

            Tuvok's outburst had left Seven uncomfortable. The Commander had always been reasonable, even in the face of stubbornness. His urgency made her feel slightly queasy in the pit of her stomach, and unpleasant sensation. He had left the room, leaving Janeway staring after him. When she had composed herself, she turned back to Seven, Harry and Vorik to take up where Tuvok left off.

            "Well?"

            Still, neither she nor her comrades said anything. Seven was quite sure that Vorik was involved; she had heard him sneak into the cabin early this morning. Harry was also a likely suspect, considering her was heading the project. Janeway was now continuing to pace in front of them, a Queen trying to read her missing drones. She stopped in front of Harry.

            "Ensign Kim?" Her use of rank had the desired effect; his eyes snapped to meet hers, body becoming rigid at attention. Indeed, the surly look that had been on his face vanished. "Ensign, you were in charge of the array, so I can be correct in assuming that you were there when it was put up?"

            A weak nod.

            "Answer me, Ensign."

            "Yes, ma'am."

            Seven noticed the Captain grimace at the use of ma'am, but she didn't do anything about it.

            "Did you activate it at all?"

            Harry's hands were clenching and unclenching at his side, clearly debating the right thing to do.

            "Yes, Captain."

            "Did the Plak'han contact you?"

            The tension was amazing. Seven watched as Janeway held her breath, waiting for the possibly life-altering affirmative. She found herself doing the same.

            "Yes."

            Gushes of air were released all at once, not from happiness, but relief.

            "Ensign, who else was with you?"

            "Ensign Vorik and Icheb, Captain."

            Icheb! But she thought she had heard him come to bed early last night! It must have been Tuvok getting up and coming back, or maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, wanting him to be safe…

            Why hadn't he come forward and told someone? Seven could see what was going to happen, now that the Plak'han had found them, and she thought that maybe if Icheb had gotten her, maybe some of this could have been adverted, maybe…

            "Ensign, why didn't you come forward immediately? Why didn't you inform me of the situation? Do you not realize that now we've lost time on coming up with a course of action? The Plak'han could be here any minute now, and we're just going to let them walk right in!" Janeway's voice had been crescendoing until she stopped. Harry's face was still looking straight ahead at attention, impassionately, red blotches around his eyes, a stream of tears streaming down the left side of his face. Seven found the exchange, or lack there of, fascinating. The Captain noticed her watching, lips slightly parted, and dismissed her. Clearly, she did not want her bearing witness to what she was about to say.

            Trying her best to remain composure as she hunted down Icheb, Seven watched her surroundings carefully, making sure the Plak'han weren't already here. Logically, she knew they weren't here yet. It wasn't there way to sneak up on people. They had just kept striking _Voyager_ until it was nearly destroyed. If it hadn't been for that other ship that had stepped in at the last moment out of nowhere, _Voyager_ would never have been able to crash land, effectively preserving the majority of the remaining crew.

            Icheb was sitting in the communications room, tapping away at the console. Rushing forward, Seven grabbed his hand.

            "What are you doing? Did you not learn your lesson about playing around it here after last night?" Icheb's face dropped at the accusation.

            "How did you find out?"

            "Ensign Kim is in the Captain's quarters with Vorik right now, explaining everything." Seven towered over Icheb, who sat quietly in her shadow. "Do you not realize the implications of this delayed confession? There could be Plak'han on this planet right now, looking for the best way to capture us!"

            "Highly unlikely."

            "Are you unaware of their mission to have us all destroyed? Why are you so impudent?" Icheb turned to the console, tapping in a command on the display.

            "Actually, sensor logs show that there was another ship in the region. Not Plak'han. Just before the sensor died, the other ship opened fire on the Plak'han, driving them away."

            Seven's mind raced. Another ship that was able to combat the Plak'han. Were they friend or foe? Did they open fire in their best interest, or did they, too, have some unknown personal vendetta against the _Voyager_ crew? If they were after her and her crewmembers, it would be worse than they thought…

            "Icheb, have we seen this other ship before?"

            "Negative. I already checked the ion trails. According to what is left of our databanks, they are not classified."

            "What about the weapon? What is it that it could chase the Plak'han off so quickly?" Icheb keyed in another command.

            "I'm afraid sensors aren't as sophisticated as we would like. As far as I can tell, it is some kind of torpedo that creates a high-yield explosive of plasma that clings to exterior of the ships, effectively chewing away at whatever the blast does not incinerate."

            "What did this unknown entity do after firing?"

            "The Plak'han moved off, and then sensors shut down. They could have pursued, or they could still be in orbit around Haven, or they may have moved off else where. There's no way to tell."

            "Unless we put the sensors back on…"

            "Seven, as you pointed out, it would be ill-advised to bring them back online without the Captain's permission." Seven smiled slightly. Inside, she felt sick. A civilization that could wield such awesome power could be sitting above them at this very second, and the didn't know about it. But Seven intended to find out.

            "Well then, we should go find the Captain."


	25. The Doctor

~ The Doctor ~

            The Doctor muttered a few bars of the New World Symphony under his breath. The tune swelled and fell as he scanned Tuvok with the tricorder. When he caught the agitated look in Tuvok's eyes, however, the Doctor stopped, smiling briefly. Pulling out a hypospray, the Doctor injected its contents into Tuvok's neck.

            "Well, Tuvok, I'm afraid I'm unable, at the moment, to synthesize any more medicine, although the lack of stress that you have on this planet is causing the disease to move a slight bit slower, but not enough to cause a world of difference."

            "What did the medicine you just used do?"

            "Its an incredibly primitive form of your old medicine, not nearly as strong. It will continue to slow down the process, but not as well. Hopefully, this combined with your new environment will slow down the disease as well as the old medicine, but don't get your hopes up."

            Ever since he had been reactivated, the Doctor had split his time between keeping the crews health in check from the various bugs and plants. Apparently, those who had allergies to dust also had an allergy to something on the air on Haven, and a special vaccine would need to be created for those people. Later. As far as he was concerned, Tuvok's health came first at the moment. Unfortunately, his original cultures pf Tuvok's medicine were destroyed on _Voyager_, and with only a limited medical database to serve him, it was taking a while to find some sort of replacement. Some of the primate's DNA showed promise for something, and it may even help cure Tuvok's disease, perhaps with some aide from Vorik…

            "I have no hopes, Doctor." The Doctor circled the small bed that Tuvok was sitting up on, putting away his supplies.

            "I know how you value your privacy, Tuvok, but the Captain will have to be notified eventually."

            "And I will deem when the time is right." The Doctor sighed. He knew the doctor-patient confidentiality by heart, or rather, memory banks, and had always tried to uphold it. But Tuvok was a critical part of the crew, stranded or not, and he could still pose a threat even at this early of a stage.

            "Okay Tuvok. I'm trusting your judgment. However, another outburst like the one today, and she'll find out, one way or another." The Doctor looked Tuvok straight in the eyes. "Believe it or not, but everyone can tell that you aren't well."

            "Then I will practice the Disciplines with extra diligence."

            "I'm afraid that isn't enough Tuvok. You're Vulcan."

            "I'm aware of that biological fact of my existence, Doctor. I do not think that the disease as progressed so far as to rob me of my fundamental being," Tuvok said, slightly irritated. Trust a Vulcan to make a dry joke while being threatened with terminal illness.

            "Yes, I know, I know. But, as a Vulcan, and a very good one, I might add, it's very noticeable when you are agitated. You've always concealed your emotions so well, and now, they, well….they leak. Just small little outbursts. I'm surprised that no one came to be about it earlier."

            "As you see, Doctor, I have everything under control. There will be no need to inform the Captain until – "

            "Inform me of what?"

            Standing in the doorway was Captain Janeway, hands on hips, head tilted at the mention of her. Both Tuvok and the Doctor whipped their heads towards the door. The Doctor tried to play innocent, but he was all too aware of how this would look to her. Just as he was about to come up with some such nonsense of a stomach flu induced by some native insect, Tuvok saved him, or rather, himself.

            "As I was just saying to the Doctor, there will be no need to inform you of my condition until it worsens." She looked first at Tuvok, and then the Doctor.

            "What condition?"

            Tuvok looked at the Doctor and drew a breath.

            "I have contracted a skin rash from a plant. I do not believe it to be serious, and with the present condition, it did not seem wise to alert you about it with so many other activities happening already."

            Janeway nodded once, slowly, and then twice more, signaling acceptance.

            "Understood. That must have been why you were so…irrational, earlier. All is forgiven. If you're better, I need you in the communications room, right away. Doctor?" He was startled into awareness by his title.

            "Uh, yes. Yes, Captain, he is fit for duty." Turning towards Tuvok, he said, "Tuvok, please come see me later for some creme for that itch." Nodding quickly, Tuvok thanked the Doctor with his eyes.

            "Understood."


	26. Pochin

~ Pochin ~

            Pochin reclined in his chair, watching, waiting. Machines whirred around him, and his crew members ran around beneath him, happily fixing relays, updating systems. What a dull day. The Plak'han had been fairly easy to chase off. He wasn't aware of what the _Voyager_ had done to them, but it must have been something to get the Plak'han off their lazy rears. One shot of the plasmatic torpedo, and all had been settled. Ruffling his wings, Pochin stood up and carefully placed three legs on the ground, each leg being balanced by three talons. Looking into the mirror, Pochin's two eyes noticed a feather out of place on his head. Frowning, he carefully plucked it and held the blue-green feather up to the light. At eight foot two, Pochin was considered one of the finest specimen of Grebyts alive, and he was all too willing to agree. He felt that his rare coloring was a turn on to others, but Pochin wasn't one to survive on looks. His high grades in the Academy had provided this position. Smoothing down the other feathers, Pochin walked out of his observation room and took his private turbo lift down to the main bay.

            In the main bay, several Grebyts, like himself, hopped around the deck. With three legs, it makes it hard for any Grebyt to run, let alone walk, so they had evolved as hoppers.

            Now the Spleys, on the other hand, were what the Grebyts used for maximum efficiency. The sister specie on their home world, Yemetes, Spleys were nearly half the height of the average Grebyt. They possessed the same feather coating as the Grebyts, but with out any on their legs. Instead, their legs were spindly and composed of a natural metal that coated a Spleys' legs at the age of 2. Nevertheless, they were quick and agile, being able to both run and fly, giving huge advantages, An incredibly dimwitted specie, the Spleys were more than happy to be governed by the intellectually superior Grebyts. Their stupidity, coupled with a short life span of 27 years, made the Spleys an excellent, easily disposable force.

            The Spleys on board Pochin's ship, the _Vayea_, were in quarters, and would remain there until needed. Not that they cared. Their quarters were full of digi-grids, a type of portable holodeck, and plenty of food. That's all you needed to keep them happy.

            Circling the main bay, Pochin went over to a science station, where the ensign hopped away. Scans indicated that the _Voyager_ people were still unable to communicate by their own choice. He was tired of waiting for them to regain their confidence. Might as well talk to them while they are licking their wounds.

            "Chela, is there anyone present in the room where the communication originated?" The beautiful and sleek Grebyt turned in her chair, accessing sensors.

            "Affirmative." She smiled. A striking smile. A deadly one as well.

            "Can we spark their systems from here, enough to get through to them?"

            "Yes, sir."

            "Do it."

            Chela's six fingers danced over the controls, plugging in the necessary commands. Pochin admired her grace as she continued to adjust settings, making sure the spark hit them, and not the ship. Finally, she turned to Pochin with a nod.

            "All is set, sir."

            "Instantiate the jolt."

            Turning to watch on the massive view screen, a single tendril of deep blue electricity came forth from the _Vayea_, hitting only its target, nothing else. For a second, it continued, surging from ship to shore, until it snapped off. Mission accomplished.

            "Is there a channel open?"

            "Affirmative."

            "Good. Start the recording."

            Chela pressed a button, giving Pochin the signal to start talking.

            "Greetings, people of _Voyager_."

            Nothing.

            "Are they receiving this?"

            "Wait," Chela said. "Now they are."

            The picture sparked into view of several confused humanoids. The one in the center was young. He had pale skin and eyes that seemed to melt back into his face, although now they were wide open. In the background, several more were talking: a short woman with brown hair cropped to frame her face, a tall, dark skinned man with pointed ears, and another, younger man with metal etched onto his face. Ah, and another woman came into focus behind him, also bearing the metal ornaments. Apparently, only the young man gawking at them had even noticed anything. The rest were still busily chatting away over their equipment and scans.

            "Captain…" the young one trailed off.

            "What is it Harry?" The older woman stood straight up, turning around. "Did you find – " She stopped in mid sentence, eyes fixed on Pochin. Rushing forward, she started jabbing buttons with her fingers. Five on each hand. Amazing. "Harry, what did you do?"

            "You will have to forgive me, Captain, but I've overloaded your systems with a bit of special electricity. It is what powered your communications up, and it will wear off in the next five minutes. I needed to talk to you." The Captain's eyes fixed on him, turning from clouds to steel. They were a nice shade of brown, not too dark to appear threatening, but not so light that they made her look sick. Nevertheless, they were fixated upon him at the moment, and they demanded answers.

            Now.

            Pochin graciously bowed and gave his explanation.

            "The Plak'han have long been our adversary, out here picking on innocent passer-bys. We heard about your encounter and decided to bring some humanitarian supplies if you so desired."

            Every person in the room looked relieved, except for the Captain.

            "Why should I trust you?" Pochin ruffled his feathers in mock disbelief.

            "How could you not, dear Captain? From what I can see, you will soon be encountering the yearly plasma storms." The Captain's face had become a mask of nothingness.

            "Plasma storms? There aren't any for at least another 6 months."

            "Ah, my dear Captain, none that you could detect with the primitive equipment that you are using. However, we have them catalogued from past years. They are coming."

            She leaned into the screen a bit, trying to call his bluff. Pochin could see the scenario playing out in her mind: they hadn't detected anything, but were they really missing something? Was she really willing to risk the crew on his bluff?"

            Apparently not.

            "Well, in that case, we could use some supplies." The Captain's face adopted a rather forced smile.

            "We would be more than happy to help. We shall be back with supplies in a few weeks. Until then…" Pochin bowed, flashing a smile at the Captain, and then had communications severed, his smile being replaced with a grim expression.

            "Take us to warp. Heading: the Felch Base."


	27. B'Elanna

B'Elanna

            _Miral the elder cried out in pain as B'Elanna was encircled by the plasma fire. Covering her baby's face with what little garments she had left, B'Elanna struggled to grab her mother's hand. The fire burned brightly on her back, her face, her legs. She could feel its poisonous essence reaching through her skin, crawling along it, slowly dissolving all feelings but fear. Again, she readjusted the swathes on little Miral with one hand, hoping to protect her from the gruesomeness of the fire. Leaning further and further in until her naked body was nearly consumed by the blaze, B'Elanna made a final attempt at Miral's hand. Fear crept along her skin: fear of failing, fear for her daughter, fear for her mother. Fear for herself was vanquished._

_            And as B'Elanna grasped her mother's hand, it fell, severed from the elbow onward. Petrified, B'Elanna could do nothing but stare at the hand that had raised her in this world as she was engulfed by the flames…_

B'Elanna woke with a start from her dream. Groping for little Miral's form, she hugged it tightly to her body, making the small child cry out in protest. Releasing the pressure on the baby, she rocked her back and forth, soothing the cries. B'Elanna was propped against the wall in her cabin, dressed in a loose white garment. The sun peeked in through the cracks, barely warming the cabin. Nevertheless, B'Elanna felt as if she were back in her dream. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the vividness of it all. Three generations of Torres' present, each one with the dark hair and forehead ridges, each one dying without honor.

            Or was it without honor?

            She tried to think back. Why had she been there – wherever there was – naked, holding little Miral a ring of fire, and an elder Miral on the outside? Try as she might, B'Elanna couldn't place any of it. The room they had been in hadn't been on the forefront of B'Elanna's thoughts at the time. Concentrating hard, she could recall the smell of a cave, dampness covering the cavernous walls. But that was it. Frustrated with herself, B'Elanna leaned her head back and closed her eyes when the Captain walked in.

            At first, B'Elanna made the effort to rise without disturbing the now-sleeping Miral, but Kathryn motioned her to be still. Pulling a chair up from the other side of the cabin, Kathryn sat down in front of the bed.

            "How are you feeling?" B'Elanna stretched and yawned.

            "Tired," she admitted.

            "Well, I hope you two get some more rest. You deserve it." The Captain placed a hand on Miral's head. "I don't want to keep you from your sleep, but I wanted to get some answers first." Curious, B'Elanna nodded.

            "I know that our scanners aren't incredibly strong at the moment because of lack of supplies, but I was wandering if there was a way to modify them to be a bit more far reaching."

            "Well, we would need to either improvise or acquire some other materials, but they could grow to be a lot more powerful. Why?"

            "You didn't hear about this morning?" At the shake of B'Elanna's head, Janeway continued. "Harry and some others were setting up the communications array last night, and the Plak'han discovered us. Later on, when we restarted the array, another specie – the Bistras – contacted us. Apparently, they're here to help out and give us supplies for a plasma storm that is heading our way. Soon." B'Elanna gaped.

            "But the nearest plasma storms we detected were six months away!"

            "Yes, but we may not have been able to see these ones coming. I plan on accepting whatever help we can get from the Bistras, and then cut them off. The less people who know we're here, the better. So if we could have some updated sensors – "

            " – then we won't need to rely on others," B'Elanna said, finishing the Captain's sentence. And as B'Elanna watched the Captain coo at little Miral, she saw the elder Miral's face superimpose itself on Kathryn. Shocked at the sudden change in appearance, B'Elanna habitually pushed herself backwards. Janeway looked up, concerned.

            "Are you okay, Lieutenant?" B'Elanna drew in breath, refocusing. This was the Captain, not Miral, who could very well be dead. If not, at least in the Alpha Quadrant.

            "Yes. Yes, I think I'm fine. Just exhaustion." B'Elanna forced a smile through, causing the Captain to smile back.

            "Good. Well, I think we all are a bit tired." She smiled one last time, and rose, heading towards the door. Halfway across the threshold, Kathryn turned, laying a hand across her abdomen.

            "When you feel well enough, I would like for you to come look at the sensors and see what we can do about them. I'm sure the Wildman's, especially Naomi, would love a chance to baby-sit." And then she was gone.

            That's right! B'Elanna mentally smacked herself. How could she have forgotten that the Captain was pregnant? Tom had told her just last night, and she hadn't even given the Captain her congratulations! Still admonishing herself for not thinking about it, B'Elanna rose with little Miral and walked over to the night stand on the other side of the room where her food that she had been eating before she had slept was. Bending over, B'Elanna picked up some berry-like food and popped one into her mouth. Not bad. She held one up to the light…

            …where it burst into flames.

            Keeping her cool, B'Elanna dropped the fruit and turned to the tray where a cup of water was. Knowing she would regret not drinking this later, she threw its contents onto the berry. Letting the tin cup fall to the floor with a _clank_, B'Elanna bent over the berry and, with one hand clasped around Miral, she picked up the fruit.

            Aside from the sponginess it had from being drenched in water, it was still a tinged light blue and didn't look burnt at all. Suddenly very aware of how unlikely all of this was, B'Elanna turned very slowly and found her shoes, slipping them on. Throwing a shawl around her soldiers in case Miral decided to spit up, B'Elanna walked quickly to the makeshift sickbay, where she turned herself over for the Doctor's treatment.


	28. Neelix

Neelix

            Neelix slowly backed into Sickbay with a cart of food for the ailing engineer. Without turning around he called out, "Who's ready for some more tajaberries? I've cooked them so – "

The Doctor's hand clamped around Neelix's mouth.

            "Mr. Neelix, I'm afraid I'll have to insist that you keep your voice down! My patient needs her beauty sleep, and you certainly aren't helping." A wounded look crossed Neelix's face. He had often heard others describe it as a puppy-dog look. According to Mr. Paris, it made him look sad and would often win him battles. He said it was a good skill to have. Neelix had no intention of using it as a weapon; rather, he actually felt bad. Who would take advantage of people in such a manner?

            "But, Doctor, I've prepared B'Elanna some food. I heard she was down here, and I wouldn't want to let a crew member go without food." He tried the face again. The Doctor's eyes bored into his. For a second, he looked like he was going to let up. Neelix turned and started pulling the cart in further…

            "Mr. Neelix, that's enough! I know you care about B'Elanna, but she needs rest right now!" The Doctor stepped in front of Neelix's path. Instead of running into him, the little Talaxian abandoned the food and sidestepped around the Doctor, stopping at B'Elanna's bio bed.

            She was deathly pale, causing the ridges on her forehead to look dark in contrast. The minimal lighting in the room caused the ridges to cast a shadow over the desert that had been her face. Her chest rose peacefully, but underneath the eyelids, B'Elanna's eyes darted back and forth, round and round. The absence of baby Miral in her arms could have explained the frantic searching of B'Elanna's closed eyes. Glancing past the sleeping woman, he saw a small cradle with a tiny fist raised in the air. With his fears of the child assuaged, Neelix turned back to the chief engineer.

            "She's been like this for a few hours now," the Doctor said. He came up behind the Talaxian and, rather uncharacteristically, put a holographic hand on his shoulder. "When she came in, she was talking about visions, hallucinations. It was all I could do to calm her down so she wouldn't hurt her daughter. I eventually had to take away Miral and sedate her."

            "Will…will she be okay?" Neelix managed to squeak out, wringing his hands.

            "I'm sure she'll be just fine. I think this pregnancy in such a strange place as created some unwanted stress. The Captain told me she had been in her cabin a few moments before B'Elanna came to me, talking about the recent contact with these new aliens. Nevertheless, I took blood samples and all, just to be sure." The Doctor traveled to the other side of the room where he was performing his experiments. "In another 15 minutes, these samples should be ready to look at." He met Neelix's gaze. "It'll be alright, Neelix."

            Neelix looked from the Doctor to the sleeping form. Would it be all right? He had never doubted the Doctor's abilities, but here…with a sigh, Neelix turned back to the bio bed, hands clasped in front of him. Steadying his breath, Neelix prayed for B'Elanna. It had been a while since he had prayed. Religion hadn't exactly been on the top of his list since the destruction of Rinax. How could the gods do that to their people…?

            What seemed like eternity later, Neelix heard the Doctor focusing a microscope, separating samples, checking and rechecking figures. It was all gibberish to Neelix, so he simply let the Doctor do his job.

            Neelix's legs had become tired, so he retreated to a nearby chair. Slowly, as to not make any noise, he set himself down. No sooner had he done that then Miral let out a lusty wail; she was hungry.

            "Um…Doctor…?"

            Without looking up, the Doctor pointed to a small fridge.

            "Over there, Mr. Neelix," he said in an offhanded manner. Taking his lead, Neelix opened the door and found several bottles of what he assumed was milk. Picking up the nearest one, he shut the door quietly and picked up the small child out of her crib. Adjusting her the way Samantha Wildman had taught him, Neelix placed the tip of the bottle in the child's mouth. Not to be deterred from her crying spree, Miral continued to cry with all her might. Anxious, Neelix forced the bottle into her parted mouth again. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that B'Elanna was still sleeping. How could she not wake?

"Mr. Neelix, could you please quiet her down? I'm trying to work!" the Doctor snapped.

"I'm trying, Doctor."

He tried bouncing her around for a few minutes, which seemed to reduce her to sobs. Then, carefully sitting back down, he threaded the bottle into her closed lips. After a moment, she started suckling. Breathing a sigh of relief, Neelix, settled himself back and let her drink from the bottle, tipping it as she needed. With a final gurgle, she emptied the contents of the bottle, and Neelix set it on the ground. Adjusting Miral to a more comfortable position, she started to sleep again. Content to let her do so, Neelix let himself doze off.

No more than 15 minutes had gone by before he heard voices approaching the cabin. Rather loudly, too. How rude. He tried to protect Miral's ears in hope that she wouldn't wake up from her hard earned sleep. And he was largely successful, until Tom Paris nearly broke down the door with the Captain trailing behind them. Mr. Paris looked very red in the face, while the Captain looked strained. She wasn't getting enough sleep. He would need to change that.

"Captain, B'Elanna will be okay. Why don't you go get some rest? Staying up this late will only harm your baby and – "

"Neelix, it's okay. I called them here." The Doctor stepped out from the shadows of the corner. He held a PADD in his hand tentatively. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he started talking. "I'm afraid I have some bad – "

As if she knew what was coming, as if she was the messiah that the stranded Klingon's had foreseen, Miral let out a final battle cry in her mother's name.


	29. Tom

Tom

            Miral wailed. For the first and last time in his life, Tom felt the need to forcibly quiet her. Did she not understand that Mommy wasn't well? Whatever was wrong with B'Elanna had to be bad, and he needed to know. Now. Trying to restrain the urge in him to grab the Doctor and shake the truth out of him, Tom simply concentrated on something else for a moment. His eyes scanned the back wall, only to see B'Elanna's form lying on the bio bed helplessly.

            "B'Elanna…" The word stumbled from his lips haphazardly, coming out in fragments. He started towards her, but the Doctor stepped in his way.

            "Not now, Mr. Paris. She needs her rest."

            "What's…what's wrong with her?" The Doctor sighed. It was never good when he showed a human characteristic.

            "It appears she's contracted something from this planet. It is totally unknown to me, and has been in her system for just over a day." The Doctor's eyebrows went up, as if indicating something, something Tom missed, but the Captain figured out.

            "The pregnancy," she simply stated.

            "Yes. It appears that while she was giving birth to Miral – thus, being very vulnerable – she was, for lack of a better word, invaded by this virus."

            "And what does it do?" the Captain asked. Tom was silently grateful for her ability to ask questions for him. He was at a loss for words. The Doctor inhaled the breath he didn't need, buying him time.

            "Well, as best as my limited knowledge can tell, this virus is essentially harmless, except that it stimulates the part of her brain that creates hallucinations at random. Thus, she will see and experience things that aren't really happening at any given time."

            "I see." Janeway's eyes fluttered for a moment, brows knotted together in concentration. "Is there any vaccine against this for other crewmembers, or any way to treat it?" The Doctor shifted his wait again, tossing the PADD from one hand to the next.

            "I wouldn't worry about other crewmembers catching it."

            "Unless they're pregnant," Janeway probed.

            "Well, um, yes."

            Tom didn't fully realize where she was going until he remembered her pregnancy. A virus that causes new mothers to hallucinate? Who was so sick to think of that? And B'Elanna… Tom heard Miral whimpering in the background, cradled in Neelix's arms. He turned away from the group, retreating into a dark corner.

            "Doc," Tom finally said, finding his voice, "is there any way to correct it though?"

            "I'm afraid I don't see any way to do it at this time, Mr. Paris." The Doctor's pitying look fell on him, and he lowered his eyes in mourning for his wife. The Captain was speaking.

            "Will she be fit for duty?"

            "Possibly. Not right away, mind you, but eventually she may be able to work, under supervision, of course. As far as I can tell, these hallucinations come upon her once every few hours. The ones that come while she sleeps simply take the form of dreams, but those she experiences while she's awake are absolute reality to her. The virus appears to occasionally block out the part of her brain that causes her to think logically. As a result, she will sometimes wholeheartedly believe in what she sees, and, at other times, she will be able to reason the absurdity of it. I'm working right now on a medicine that should keep her pathways open, so she will always know that hallucinations are just that, providing that they are…weird enough for her to question them." Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tom felt Janeway lean against the bio bed next to him. He didn't have the strength to pull his eyes from B'Elanna, even though she was speaking to him now.

            "I want both of you on this. B'Elanna's skills are needed right now. Doctor, keep me posted. Tom, a word." It wasn't a question or request, but a command. For a moment, he considered not moving, but out of respect for his captain, he managed to take himself away from the static form of his wife.

            The Captain had lead Tom through the doors, back into the streaming moon light. Moon beams played off the windows of the cabins. Janeway stopped near the edge of her own cabin.

            "Tom, I know that you and B'Elanna have part of your own cabin built already, but I would like for you to stay here tonight, with me and Chakotay."

            "Um…sure…"

            The Captain smiled warmly, although he could tell it was forced, and pushed open the door. Chakotay was already in his night clothes, and Kathryn wasted no time in changing into hers. All Tom could do was stand at the threshold of this cozy place and stare, dumbstruck. He felt Chakotay's eyes combing him for what was wrong that he should be here. Kathryn had pulled a chair out of a corner and placed it in front of the bed, motioning for Tom to sit. He moved with leaden legs towards it, finally settling himself down, facing his commanding officers. Tom sat, waiting till he was addressed, while Kathryn filled Chakotay in on B'Elanna's condition. When she got to the part about who it affected, he risked a glance upwards. Chakotay betrayed little emotion except for a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Finally, they both looked at him. Kathryn was the first to speak.

            "Tom, it's obvious why I brought you here. I'm very sorry about B'Elanna, but I'm confident in the Doctor's abilities…" Why should she be? His advanced programming was gone, and with the limited resources available, it was unlikely he could solve the problem on his own. A new idea started to reveal itself to Tom's mind, and he toyed with it while he continued to listen to the Captain.

            "…we can do, just let us know. You may take as much time as you need every day to go and visit her…" Tom had stopped listening altogether now. He sat patiently, like a scolded child, until he heard Kathryn say he could leave now. With a nod, he got up and left, barely acknowledging them. Sure, it was a breach of protocol, but he had one, burning desire on his mind right now: find a cure for B'Elanna.


	30. 30 Chakotay

Chakotay

Chakotay eyed Kathryn, who had done nothing to stop Tom as he made his swift exit. Tom had always been very independent and strong-willed, but the past few years had diluted it to some extent. However, it seemed that Haven brought out the best of it in him. Who knew what Tom was going to go do now? Kathryn's mind seemed to be running along the same wavelength. Turning toward him, she asked, "Do you think he'll be okay?" He chuckled.

"Kathryn, he'll be fine. There appears to be as much Klingon in him as his wife. They'll both be okay as soon as the Doctor sorts this out." With reference to B'Elanna, Kathryn's face became slack at her condition.

"And if he can't? I really cannot afford to have my chief engineer believing in fantasies when the Plak'han storm the planet. She could seriously become a threat to the others. We need her…" She trailed off, eyes glazing over as something outside drew her gaze. Chakotay shifted his position on the bed. They still had yet to talk about the other matter at hand: her condition. He didn't want to prod her into it, but it was a subject that was going to be broached at some point or another. Using all his charm and wit at his disposal, he tried to ease into it, but she cut him off a few words in.

"I know what you want to talk about. Me." She turned towards him, bringing a leg up and curling it in. He gazed at the flatness of her stomach, wanting to feel the curve that would replace it in the coming months. Slowly, he dragged his gaze upwards, savoring every bit of her body, until he met the piercing blue eyes. They were all business, but a hint of worry was frozen beneath the ice. He held her gaze forever, enjoying the understanding of the situation that was communicated through love and seven years of friendship. So when she opened her mouth to speak again, Chakotay already knew what she was going to say.

"I have eight months before we need to worry about this disease. I'm fully confident in the Doctor's abilities to solve this puzzle. If he doesn't, however, we have to be prepared for the worst." She turned her head away, drawing a breath and appearing taller at the same time. "We'll need to ensure that no one else becomes pregnant, that no one else can be the victim of this disease. And." Another breath. "And we need to turn command over to you, which means we will be spending many long nights going over strategy and we will – " He swiped at a tear forming in her eye, causing another sharp intake of air. "We_ will _ensure our survival on this planet, even if it means I turn command over to you. And we will guarantee our child the right to live out a normal life, or I'll die trying." Chakotay took her by the shoulder and gently urged her to lie down on the bed.

"Kathryn. Kathryn." He fought to be heard over her sobs. "Kathryn. Its all right. You're getting yourself all worked up for nothing. Just take it easy for a while, and no doubt we'll find something, especially if Tom's working on it..


End file.
